LOOP
by Cheekygaya
Summary: What if, and this is strictly hypothetical... what if you could reload your save data to change your previous choice, like in a game? Would it change your life?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru. (cover's not mine too)**

 **Note: Following the events during volume 10 chapter 7 (right after the marathon scene).**

 **Some of the dialogues and paragraphs were taken from the novel.**

 **Prologue**

* * *

Currently in Japan, the approximate number of deaths is estimated to a percentage of 10.1 percent per 1000 people per day. Meaning, there are almost 100 people dying each day, give or take.

On a single person's perspective, that is quite an enormous number.

However, with no regards to every single life's significance, each death is piled after one another, making the whole affair a simple concept of statistics— and statistics alone. Thus, each death will be seen as something unimportant as long as it's not related to anyone concerned.

But that made me wonder: if someone's' death is only a big deal to those who cares— what's the point of being scared about it? I mean, it's apparent that everyone fears dying—

But why?

What is there to fear in something that only exists when you don't? Why fear death if you no longer exist when it came? Why fear the inevitable? The unmoving? The natural law?

I don't get it.

Everyone fully knows that dying is a fixed endpoint: a perennial code, an algorithm that is permanently encoded on our programs as humans. Truth be told, we are not so different from canned goods— stamped with expiration dates: endpoints where something or someone's existence will cease to remain.

Personally, I don't fear death, it's an acquaintance of mine. I mean, we're not damn close like best friends or anything, but we say hello to each other sometimes.

Well… not really sometimes, it's actually more often than that.

And for what reason, you ask?

Let me tell you why.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

Friday January 11, 04:20 pm

The orange rays of afternoon sun caressing my face, the occasional tingle from my back due to the sweat randomly dropping, the silence stuffed in my ears, so quiet as if sound has been muted, and my legs…

My legs…

Holy shit, they hurt.

I check my condition and is in terrible shape.

My knees and lower leg are injured in a pretty gory manner, my shorts which were colored green a while ago were now monochromed in smudges of mud. I'm cramping around my butt area, my side is aching the entire time, and trying to find any part that doesn't hurt is difficult. In the first place, I am always a painful child, so if I could get even more hurt than this, it might actually be worth studying (it hurts).

If it wasn't for cheering myself up halfway through with "Do your best , do your best ", I think my life would've turned into zero.

Of course, the goal I'm limping for was nothing but a portrayal of nothingness. Simply desolate. Meaning, after all these hardships I went through: not a single soul is waiting for me at the goal.

Rather, there's just one gym teacher regretfully present near the goal site while everyone else seemed to be gathered at the square of the park.

I went over there to take a peek as the public ceremony event takes place.

Usually, a marathon doesn't have an awards ceremony like this, but seeing that Isshiki is serving as the host of the event, the student council probably planned it in a hurry. Surprisingly, she is a capable individual.

Isshiki Iroha is one to be feared.

"Now then, now that the results have been presented, we'd like to hear a general comment from our winners!" Isshiki gleefully spoke over the microphone.

I survey the area at the moment and it looks like the whole school is actually here. People from my class such as Yuigahama, Miura, Ebina-san, Tobe, and Totsuka are in there as well.

"The winner, Hayama Hayato-san, please come up to the stage!"

Hayama ascends onto the stage wearing a laurel wreath. As soon as the gallery sees him, they erupt into an outburst of cheers.

"Hayama-senpai, congratulations for winning! I totally knew you were going to win, you knooow!"

"Thank you."

Isshiki gives him a clear, bias greeting and Hayama answers with a refreshing smile.

"Now then, please give us a comment."

Hayama takes the microphone. Then I actually consider covering my ears when a sea of applause and hand whistles crack followed by the start of the HA-YA-TO call.

"It was looking a little close in the middle of the marathon, but thanks to my good rivals and everyone's cheering, I was able to make it to the end. Thank you very much," Hayama says, then pauses for a moment. His eyes wander around the crowd and waves after spotting Miura and company. "Especially Yumiko and Iroha… Thank you."

Damn his cheesiness as the shoutings get even louder. Ooka whistles with his fingers while Yamato sends magnificent applause. As if lagging from hearing Hayama's words, Miura and Isshiki stand still and turn stiff for a moment, then start twisting their bodies in embarrassment and hang their heads with flushed cheeks. Yuigahama kindly pats Miura's shoulders.

I witness how the onlookers instantly become even noisier as they see Hayama's warm gaze and the two's reactions.

"After this, we'll focus on our efforts on our club and do our best for our last tournament. Also, to the soccer members today, it seems like a lot of you ended up with poor results, so I'll be whipping you guys into shape."

With an overreacted "Whooooa~", Tobe does a double over while mocking tears. "Hayato-kuuun, ya can't do that! You gotta let us know that beforehand!"

Hearing Tobe's remark, the gallery explode in a burst of laughter.

"Okaaaay, thank you very much. And that was our winner, Hayama Hayato-san. Okay, round of applause… We don't really need to bother with second place and the rest, right?"

Slipping in the loud applause is Isshiki's needless confirmation to the vice president which got picked up entirely by the microphone.

Isshiki somehow manages to gloss it over as Hayama, who slips down the stage waltzes into the direction of Miura.

Hayama's distant atmosphere from before now dissipates to thin air. In fact, Miura is shrinking back, embarrassed by the gazes of the surroundings, and is hiding behind Yuigahama and Ebina-san's back.

After making sure of that, I leave the square of the park.

While limping my trek across the other school building, I check my state again just to be sure. And here it is—I'm bleeding.

Why did I even bother doing this?

Now that I think about it, I really have no other choice. It's technically my own stupidity that led me into this errand. But what can I do? Miura looked so lost that time. I cannot just stand around and watch her get pulverized by Yukinoshita.

So you know what I did?

I stood up and offered my help.

What a great idiot I am.

If it's just some brute work like carrying grocery bags, it won't be a problem. But damn, it's Hayama I need to work on. The Hayama.

It was last week.

Miura came in the club room and requested us (in her utter hesitation), that she desperately wanted to know Hayama's career path. Why, you ask? Well it's obvious, really: it's just that the queen doesn't want to be separated from her self-proclaimed king.

Seconding my actions, the Service Club accepted the request. And behold, after a whole week of doing everything we got up our sleeves, we found nothing.

The request is on the way to complete failure.

But as I'm the one who took Miura's request head on, I can't just back out. So last night, an idea came into me. And with the help of my lovely Totsuka and a cringeworthy Zaimokuza, I brewed up a plan.

And that plan, at least, gave me something.

Something.

Closing the door of the school building, I relish on the cool air that the square is lacking earlier. The area is quite deserted. Which is reasonable for it's obvious that the square is already comprised by the majority of the student body.

Changing into my indoor shoes has already become heavy chore. Well, who can blame me? I'm injured, for god's sake. Cut me some slack.

The door of the infirmary is closed, and I assume that there's no one inside, but I knocked anyway.

"Come in."

Unexpectedly, I'm answered with a familiar sounding voice. I open the door and as I have anticipated, the one ahead is Yukinoshita. Still wearing her track uniform and sitting on a chair, she looks at me blankly.

"Hikigaya-kun…? I thought for sure you were Yuigahama-san."

"If you're looking for Yuigahama, she's still at the park. Then again, what are you doing here?"

"I took a short rest and they forced me to drop out…" Yukinoshita looks pissed. Then I remember, she hates losing, didn't she?

Hah, right at your face then.

"Hikigaya-kun…" She glances at my leg and her eyes narrow in pain. "You were hurt?"

"Yeah, just a little."

I can't possibly tell her that I toppled over by colliding my legs. I may not look like it, but I still have a sense of shame.

"You could have gotten treated at the goal. The nurse should have gone over there."

"No one was there when I finished…"

"I see," Yukinoshita places her hand on her chin. "You have awful timing, or maybe awful luck, or awful eyes, or perhaps–"

"My personality, my attitude, everything about me is awful. Anyway, we can use these disinfectants and stuff, right?" I rummage inside the unlocked medicine cabinet.

Yukinoshita sighed. "…You seem awfully clumsy as well." She stands up, shooes me away from the cabinet with just her hands. She took the disinfectant and bandage and pointed at the seat in front of her. "Sit over there."

"Uh, I can treat myself."

"Just sit down."

Hesitantly, I takr a seat as I'm told. When I did, Yukinoshita sits in the seat she is in earlier and moves to the front of me.

She then begins to sterilize the open wound. There is the sharp smell of antiseptic solution. Then, slightly stooping over, Yukinoshita's head comes closer along with the gentle fragrance of SABON.

For every dab of the piece of cotton damped with disinfectant on my open wound, a sweet, itchy pain pulsates. I'm particularly accustomed to this kind of medical treatment and because she timidly touches at my wound, I occasionally feel a sting in my injury from the disinfectant.

"Hey, um, i-it stings, you know…"

"Of course it does, I'm disinfecting the wound. It's only natural that it's effective on you, Hikigaya-kun."

"Uh huh, let's stop treating people like bacteria, okay?"

"It's proof that it's working. Bear with it."

Although I bring it up, Yukinoshita somewhat becomes considerate and starts being gentle with treating me. This time it feels so ticklish that I have to restrain my body from leaping.

Until she finished disinfecting the area where the abrasion of my injury id, we're both quiet. I gradually grow used to the prickling pain and my stiff body starts to relax. Yukinoshita spins the bandage once, then twice, and slowly opens her mouth.

"It seems you ran with Hayama-kun… Did you hear anything from him?"

"Yeah… At the very least, it's not the sciences, probably," I answer oddly, unable to think of any other way to phrase it.

Yukinoshita chuckles. "That's a strange way to put it… All done."

She sighs out of satisfaction. When she does, Yukinoshita's face, which has been stooping over, becomes so close to mine to the point we're almost touching.

We were both stuck in that position, not able to move a single muscle.

Her exposed skin that is as white as a blanket of snow. Her wet, damp black pupils. Her long eyelashes that momentarily shakes with a blink. The finely shaped bridge of her nose. The smiling shape of her mouth along with the escaping of breaths.

Whenever she moves her shoulder by breathing, her long, glossy hair flowed.

Realizing how awkward our situation is, I avert my eyes up at the ceiling, leaned my body backwards, and made some distance. Somewhere in that moment, I feel a sting from my injury.

"…Ahh, thanks for this."

"…Not at all. It's no big deal."

After I express my gratitude in a way to smooth things over, Yukinoshita adjusts her sitting and turns her face away.

After that, a deafening silence engulfes the room.

With nothing to do, I look at the bandage that she wrapped for me earlier. Upon looking, I notice that the knot of the bandage is tied in the shape of a small ribbon.

Cute.

I pull my chair, take a shallow seat, and stretch my back. Yukinoshita tilts her head, finding my posture to be strange.

I feel like I want to ask her.

"…Hey. Can I ask you what you're doing for your career?"

Yukinoshita seems shocked by my sudden question. I can't blame her though, it's unusual of me— prying on other people's businesses. Her hand which she places on her chin to think is brought down to her chest and stops.

"I'm enrolled in International Liberal Arts course, so it shouldn't matter whether I choose one or the other…"

"…You're right. I just wanted to try asking. Don't worry about it."

I already expect that answer, but it's weird how I felt a pang of dissatisfaction from hearing her words.

I stated with the intention of glossing it over, but Yukinoshita place her idle hands on her lap and looks at me with a slightly downcast expression.

"This is the first time you've asked me something like that, isn't it?"

"Really?"

I'm fully aware of that, though there's no way I'll agree.

For all this time, there were plenty of opportunities to ask personal things like that, but I have drawn a line that I swore not to step over. It's because I thought I wouldn't be forgiven if I did.

Yukinoshita looks into my eyes at an oblique angle in examination. "…For now, I decided on liberal arts."

"I see."

"Yes. That's why… we're still together for the time being," says Yukinoshita, smiling. It is a smile as though she's a little girl on the day before an outing.

"Well, as far as liberal arts are concerned."

I chose the liberal arts and there's no doubt Yuigahama did as well.

Us three being together for an extended period doesn't really matter. The time will come and we'll eventually embark on our own paths. But it's not that bad to leave some truths in the past. We may leave our present behind and move on, but as long as that one step over the line left a footprint, then that's fine.

"Alright, I'll be heading back to class now."

"Sure. See you later."

She waves at me as helplessly as ever. I nod to her and place my hand on the door of the infirmary.

The door then shakes, so I open the door, wondering where exactly the wind is coming in from, and a person is standing in front of me.

"Whoa… freaked me out there…"

I withstand the urge to show my utter shock by. The person in front of me is Yuigahama Yui, and her expression is stiff as well, stumbling with her words.

"…Ah, Hikki?"

"Yuigahama… Did you just get here?"

"Eh, ah, yeah. Yeah, I did! I was going to knock… but wait, I thought I saw you outside."

"Nah, I'm here since the ceremony ended."

Yuigahama doesn't seem to accept my words, "But I'm sure that's you… you're wearing different clothes, though."

"The heat's getting inside your head," I sigh. "You're just seeing things, sure that's not me."

"I see," Yuigahama nods, then she looks behind me and spots Yukinoshita.

"Yukinooon! Sorry for being late!" She says with a loud voice and sits across Yukinoshita after entering like she owns the place. Yukinoshita has a slightly puzzled face but quickly shakes her head and smiles at Yuigahama.

"I don't mind. I wasn't bored."

"Okay, that's good… Ah, I know. Since Hikki's here, now's a good time."

Yuigahama turns to me and motions me to come closer.

I enter the infirmary once again, the warm air enveloping my body. Yuigahama moves her seat next to Yukinoshita, sitting side by side in front of the heater, the source of the warmth.

"We need to tell Yumiko today about the request, right? But there's a party after this and Yumiko is heading directly there. What should we do?"

In contrast to Yuigahama who spoke in a hurry, Yukinoshita places her hand to her chin and begins to think.

"…Then on our way home, it seems we'll have to go to Miura-san and speak with her."

"Sounds right."

"At least say you're going to the party!" Yuigahama shrieks while flailing her arms in the air.

Yukinoshita and I exchange looks, both used to this pattern.

We both nod and speak simultaneously.

"Alright, if we can go, we'll go."

"Yes, we'll decide on the flow of things."

"In the end, you guys aren't just going to go, you know!?"

After letting out an exhausted sigh, Yuigahama calmly opens her mouth.

"Okay, well, but, compared to before, I guess it's better…" says Yuigahama, and she relocates her stool with casters next to Yukinoshita.

"Okay, then let's all go together…! Everyone… together." She repeated her mutters and moves her body closer to Yukinoshita.

"…So stuffy." Yukinoshita frowns as if the heating in front of her is the cause. But she doesn't forcibly pulls Yuigahama off of her and stayes as is. Yuigahama doesn't seem intent on moving from here, either. In front of the heater, she begins to make a comfortable, happy face.

Friday January 11, 5:50 pm

We three walked along with Miura to make a report on our consultations. We're on our way to the after-party venue, along the path from the public park towards the train station. We told her everything I've gotten.

From how Hayama will be most likely not taking the sciences and whatnot. Unexpectedly, she took our results pretty well with no complaints and qualms. In fact, she actually thanked us. By us, I meant 'me' included, which is kinda rare.

After a ten-minute worth of walk, we reach our destination. The location for the after-party that we relocate to is a fancy and hip looking store, an English-styled pub.

I beckon the girls to come in first and look behind. I have been getting this feeling since we got out of the school, and until now, it wasn't leaving.

I scrutinize the area to find something suspicious, but as the street is currently cramped with bustling people, it's hard to do so.

Deciding to discard my conflicts for now, I open the door and take my entrance.

It may just be my loner-senses acting-up on weird levels, but I'm sure of it.

Someone is following us that time, and it's still there.

Judging from their liveliness, it looks more like Hayama's victory celebration rather than an after-party. Including Hayama's group, Isshiki, Totsuka and his group, and for some reason, Zaimokuza is in there.

Upon entering the store, Miura promptly heads to Hayama. Yuigahama is perplexed at what to do, but when Yukinoshita nods to her, she makes a reluctant smile and goes after Miura.

With the two of us remaining, Yukinoshita and I order our drinks and lean sgainst the end of the bar counter.

"Thank you for your work."

"Mm, yeah."

Yukinoshita stands next to me and lifts her glass, so I raise mine to a similar height. We aren't accustomed to this kind of boisterous atmosphere, but it's Yukinoshita and me. I would say watching them from the corner is just about the perfect distance for all of us.

On a considerable period, we just stand there, not a word to each other. I'm currently watching the frolicking that is happening inside Hayama's clique, but as if noticing my gaze, Hayama who has went around made his way to us.

"Hey there… Thanks for coming."

Yukinoshita shakes her head, indicating it's not a big deal and I nod in agreement. As I thought about whether it'd be better to congratulate him, Hayama quietly lowers his head.

"Sorry… for all the trouble I've caused you… Like that rumor… and other things."

Yukinoshita chokes on her voice in bewilderment. But that is only for an instant as she quickly assumes a firm attitude and reiterates what she has stated in the clubroom.

"It wasn't that big of a deal. It's a trivial matter compared to back then."

"Back then, huh?" Hayama mutters with a shameful expression.

Seeing that, Yukinoshita's expression grows cloudy as well.

"…I understand it somewhat now. I'm sure we could've handled the situation a lot better. That's what I believe I caused you trouble as well… I'm sorry." This time, Yukinoshita bows her head. When she lifts her head, with eyes that look nostalgically into the far past, she adds, "But I'm grateful that you were looking out for me."

Hayama's expression is filled with surprise. Taken aback, he makes a fixed gaze at Yukinoshita. "…You've changed a little."

"I wonder about that. There are just a lot of things different now from back then," says Yukinoshita, and she moves her gaze toward Yuigahama. Then, she glances at me.

Feeling restless from having heard something I wasn't supposed to, I instinctively avert my eyes.

Yukinoshita breaths out as if smiling and turns to Hayama. "You shouldn't let the past tie you down anymore… There's no need to force yourself to chase after someone."

"…That clearly includes me too," I say.

Hayama smiles, somehow triumphantly.

Walking up from behind Hayama is Yuigahama. A little further behind her is Totsuka following her. Intoxicated by the lively atmosphere in the store, Yuigahama wraps herself around Yukinoshita's arm.

"Yukinon, the food's here! There's, like, a lot of chicken! They're all super whole roasted!"

"It's really amazing! C'mon Hachiman, you should come over too!"

I appreciate Totsuka's invitation since I'm feeling awkward being here. "

"Yeah!" I reply twice energetically and just as I'm about to head over with Totsuka, Hayama stops me lightly with his hand.

"We'll be over there in a bit… Right, Hikigaya?" says Hayama, and looks at Totsuka and Yuigahama with a meek smile.

"Okay—"

"No, I'm so hungry I might die, c'mon," I take Totsuka's arm and depart, satisfied to see Hayama staring at me slack-jawed.

Almost an hour has passed since we've been here, and to be honest, I'm itching to go home. I stand up from my stool and head towards the door. Screw sending my regards and goodbyes— who cares if I stay or not?

Twisting the doorknob and getting my face caressed by the cold wind outside, I look back as I feel a tug in my sleeve.

Behind me is Yukinoshita, looking at me with and expectant expression.

"You leaving now?"

"N-no, I was just—"

"I understand," she cuts me off by raising her hand. "I'm not stopping you," suddenly, she looks down and starts fidgeting. "In fact, may I request you to walk me home?"

"What?" I widen my eyes at her, bewildered. But then, something pops inside my head. "You don't know the way to your apartment from here, do you?"

I smirk as she looks down, taking her silence as a yes.

"Alright," I agree. "Guess I have no choice. I can't afford being guilty if something happened to you, can I?"

"Alright, thank you," she smiles while bowing sarcastically. "You're such a model citizen, drop dead, please."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"So you wil be going home? As in now, exactly?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I'll just tell Yuigahama-san my goodbyes and we'll go."

Friday January 11, 7:20 pm

We are currently on our way to Yukinoshita's apartment complex. It's not that far from the party-venue so we decided to just walk our way there. It's already been ten minutes... but until now, no words were said between us.

I readjust my collar and bury half of my face in it. Suddenly, I feel nervous as hell. I have no idea why, but I feel so uneasy that my pace quicken up a bit. Good thing Yukinoshita doesn't seem to mind as she mirrors my pace wordlessly.

But then, I feel it again, the looming presence I felt from before. The feeling that someone's following us. This time, it's even more compelling, as if I can already see the culprit itself. I turned around to scan the area—

Then I stiffened as I see what is right behind us.

Face covered with a bonnet, he's holding a gun, currently pointed at Yukinoshita. For a moment, I just stood there, staring, as if not believing what's happening in front of me. But even before I could voice out god knows what words in my mouth, I hear a gunshot, and a cry of pain.

And the last thing I know, I'm holding Yukinoshita, bleeding.

She opens her mouth as if trying to say something.

"N-no… don't force yourself..."

I choke as I watch how blood drips across her face while the hole on her forehead secretes blood non-stop. Her eyes are now blankly staring at me.

My breathing become ragged, and I desperately shake her awake.

"O-oi, Yukinoshita! Get a grip! I'm getting help!" I try to lift her up but her body no longer responds to my movements.

There is now this sick puddle of blood below us but I don't care.

Tears dripping from my eyes, I snatch her wrist and search for her pulse.

"No…"

Nothing.

Her labored breathing earlier can no longer be heard.

In fact, she' no longer breathing at all.

I shake her awake by tapping her cheeks, "Y-yukinoshita… oi, look at me…"

But reality is cruel. And my logical mind is even more.

No matter how much I avert my eyes from reality, I know for sure what's really happening.

Yukinoshita is dead.

Suddenly, I hear the tapping sound of footsteps.

I look up and see the man earlier, the gun still in his hand. I can't see his face but I'm sure, he's looking at me.

Words involuntarily come out from my throat, "…fuck you."

With that, he begins to run, away to the other direction.

No longer caring, I lay Yinoshita on the cold road and chase after him.

I run, faster than the way I ran in the marathon earlier.

All I want is to catch up and be able to strangle him, break him.

That bastard killed Yukinoshita.

I need to run.

He crosses the road on full speed and I did the same.

But then, all of a sudden, a bright flash of light blinds my eyes. Loud honking noises stuffs my ears. Then as my eyes recover, I look at the source of the noise.

I stand still, unmoving.

What's in front of me is an incoming truck, speeding, ready to crush me down.

I closed my eyes, ready to feel the incoming pain, but none came.

Instead, I'm engulfed with an eerie feeling of comfort. I feel like I'm lying down on something soft.

Is this heaven?

Then why does the heaven smelt so familiar?

I open my eyes to take a look, but contrary to my expectations, I am, instead, greeted by something my brain cannot comprehend.

The bed that I have been using for these past years, bookshelves lined up with a ton of books, the study table, cluttered with my rejected essay papers.

There's no way.

"My room?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I didn't own anything.

* * *

 **Chapter One: Alpha— _'The Realization'_**

 **...**

I can hear nothing but my own ragged breathing and the crashing of my feet upon the watery ground. I have been running at full speed on the way back towards the place where I'm supposed to be. Rain splits into my eyes, yet I keep going with my senses spiking up on the rush of adrenaline.

 _I need to get back to that place._

 _I need to get there fast._

The rainwater drops into my panting mouth, soothing my dried up throat for a little while. I find myself on the verge of a panic breakdown. My heart is threatening to pop out through my throat. Every step I take swirls my head like mad—I'm going crazy.

 _No one can blame me._

For some inexplicable reason, I found myself laid in my bed, safe and sound, just mere moments ago.

 _In my room, for crying out loud._

The one place where I wasn't supposed to be at the moment. It took a large chunk of willpower to prevent myself from freaking out. The same willpower that's been constantly draining as I push my legs to keep moving on.

Claps of thunder bellow, after illuminating the dark road with a sudden flash. To boot, I didn't know that it would rain too, so I didn't bring an umbrella. And, to be honest, preventing myself from getting wet isn't at the top of my priorities right now.

I'm shivering from the cold. The shorts and random shirt, that I put on in a hurry, almost look like rags now. I'm drenching, hitching a breath every time the breeze blew towards me.

 _Yet, I want to keep going._

 _No, I need to keep going._

The wind, the rain and the clapping of my feet against the puddles, splashing water into the air. The curses and complaints of those whom I bump into, the honks from cars halting as my stupid-self crosses the roads on green lights. I let my legs go on autopilot, my senses disregard each bit of trivial information.

And I bump into someone again, this time hard enough to make me stumble.

"H-Hey, are you alright?"

 _Get up._

"Here, let me help you."

 _Damn it, get up!_

"…Out of my fucking way."

Someone takes a step back, responding to my snarl. Not even sparing a single glance, I set off again.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, my legs run wild.

 _Man, I'm going mad._

 _I'm going crazy._

 _But I don't care._

 _I have to get there._

 _See her._

 _Then I'll rest._

 _Then I'll breathe again._

I turn with these thoughts swirling in my head, and I was greeted with a familiar sight.

Familiar, yet awfully different from what I expected to see.

Shops have their windows covered to prevent the rain from getting through, people are bustling on the sidewalk in a hurry—slicing in half in order to not bump into me.

Me. The only one that's completely drenching and standing in the middle of the sidewalk, while looking dumbstruck.

I expected to see an ambulance, a whole bunch of 'do not cross' yellow tape wrapped across the scene. I would also be lying if I said I didn't expect a bunch of curious people, frolicking around.

Well, in fact—there's a crowd.

The only difference is,

"…It looks normal."

It's the place where I left Yukinoshita's body down. The very same place where she was shot. Where her murder took place.

 _The very same place where she… died._

But all of those thoughts evaporate, along with my ability to stay calm.

"What… what the fuck is this?"

How can they act normally when someone just died here, moments ago? More importantly, where is the police? Her body? Did the ambulance take her already? But where are the cops? Aren't they supposed to be present at the crime scene? And the others… Yuigahama and the others.

… _They're nearby._

I begin to move my shaking legs again, speeding towards a new location.

"T-They should… they should still be there."

While ignoring the weird stares I'm getting, I continue to run towards the venue of the party. And, as if mocking me, the rain is getting even harsher. Thunderclaps and heavy raindrops fill the background. The cold wind is biting underneath my skin. I forgot to check the time, but there was really no actual need to do so—we were just gone for about a half hour. They should still be there.

"No… t-they must… they must be there."

I keep muttering under my breath, my supply of air gradually decreasing with each step. My legs are tired, my breathing is slowed, and my eyes narrow as I spot a familiar establishment from afar.

I can see the pub, just a few meters away from me.

"Just a little more… just a bit more."

I force my legs to move on, ignoring my body's complaints. My heart beats madly in my chest. I gasp for air as I keep my erratic breathing from halting. I begin choking, as if a pair of imaginary hands strangle me.

The pub is now but a few steps away from me.

 _Just a few more… a few more, then I will see them._

Yuigahama could handle the rest, and I'll lie down at last.

 _I'm tired…_

 _I'm tired…_

 _I'm tired…_

But I'm not allowed to be tired right now—this is all I can do.

 _This is all I can do for her…_

 _So I need to run… I have to run…_

I grit my teeth as I keep limping forward, the heavy drops of the rain slam their weight onto my back.

Then, time seems to stop.

Raindrops appear to have suspended in midair.

Everything becomes a blur.

My legs give up and I hit the wet road.

My face slams down hard and I feel dizzy… and tired… and sad… and lonely…

I can see shadows gather around me, while peeking through the slits of my half-closed eyes.

Everything seemed to fade, then a thought crosses my mind.

"….I'll die."

Lying down on the road, I'll die just like her.

 _Well… not really like her._

 _She had me…_

 _I have no one…_

Very typical, alone to the bitter end.

Just like how a loner should be.

 _I will die… I will die alone._

With that as my final thought, I close my eyes.

Then everything turns black.

* * *

As a kid, my curious mind tended to drift towards such weird fascinations. I know now many would agree that having such thoughts, as a child, is nothing unusual. That the minds of younger ones often incline to be creative, thus, filling their heads with the fruits of their imaginations.

But I digress, imaginations or baseless fascinations they may be, those explanations cannot not apply to me. I'm different. Or, more like, my _way of thinking_ is contrastive. Yes, I may have had those wonderings as a child, but mine took a different train. I was twisted, rotten and downright even weirder than those other children.

As an example, I used to wonder how it feels like to be dead.

Through anyone else's viewpoint, it just seems to be a silly thought that a creepy child like me, back then, would think. Much like how people think teenagers tend to act like emos after the had one.

But, it's me we're talking about. My mind might drift to nonsensical and otherwise, perverted thoughts sometimes but mostly, I think for the sake of thinking. I observe something with the desire to decipher logic from it. I also don't just think. I try to understand.

And that's why me thinking about a matter, such as death, cannot be considered silly at all. It's probably a good thing that I hadn't tried to conduct any physical experiments because, if I did, I wouldn't be here talking about it right now.

Anyway, time passed and just like what happened with the other children in my age as they grew up, my curiosity faded. Either I became so focused on what to do in the present or I just simply lost interest in it.

But then, as if adhering to the common belief of _thinking about something too much, it will come true,_ I was struck down _._ Whether it be out of coincidence or if fate has really taken notice of my curiosity, I don't know.

The only thing in my mind is, I'm doomed.

My questions have been answered.

I asked so many times how it felt like to be dead and now, fate has shown me death itself.

I've seen it.

I've felt it.

It's harsh and brutal.

It's lonely.

But that doesn't matter now, does it?

As I'm already…

…

The afterlife feels cold.

It's like that moment when your bathroom door suddenly opens during an early bath on a particularly cold day. Well, that example might be vivid, but that's the only way how I can describe it.

But of course, I can't complain. I had kind of expected it to be hot here. Hot enough to make me a baked Hachiman. Though perhaps, my good deeds still weigh better than my sins, so at least I should be happy I'm not in hell.

But is heaven supposed to be this chilly? I mean yeah, of course, those pictures depicting heaven show how it lies on top of the atmosphere and over the clouds. But that's just symbolism, right? Like how heaven is supposed to be on top and hell at the bottom?

It is… right?

Anyway, whatever the right explanation is, isn't heaven supposed to be considerate to those who just died? Just who do you think would like having to die then wake up thinking that they've been reincarnated into a frozen sausage? No one. So damn you all, heaven staff or crew or whatever maintenance or utility group you call yourselves. If angels can get those golden harps that they always have in those paintings, at least have the sense to buy some heaters too!

I open my eyes and the blinding glare of the heavens wink back. I was startled for a second as my sight drifted across a blank sheet of white. But then I remember that I'm safe and sound. No one can harm the dead, right?

A shadow blots my view of the overreaching light when a sudden flash tears at me again and I snap my eyes shut instinctively. Muffled sounds funnel through my ears and all I can make out are slow rhythms, like someone humming underwater.

I let my consciousness drift away while listening, my mind wandering back to memories I have of the world I left behind. Komachi's cooking and the comfort of lying on my bed. My mother's soothing lullabies during my nights of nightmares when I was a child. Dad ranting his usual cynical topics while I carry his drunk self to his room.

I miss them.

Not even an hour has passed and I'm already homesick.

Pathetic.

I used to say that I love being alone. That the only one I needed was myself and myself alone. I always shunned people away. I kept myself locked in a delusional sense of satisfaction at being isolated from others. And now that my wish has been actually granted, I find myself wanting to take those words back.

I don't want to be alone.

What a hypocrite I am.

Maybe it is karma's way of punishing me. Sending me to the eternal demise of being alone. Now that I think about it, heaven isn't supposed to be cruel—right? Just what kind of deity inflicts suffering upon the deceased?

Unless... I am actually in hell.

Heh. Well, that explains a lot.

Look at how stupid I am—I deluded myself into thinking that I've been worthy of heaven. For my whole life, I was nothing but a twisted guy and did things in my own rotten way.

I lied.

I cheated.

I manipulated.

If possible, I really want to work on my sins. Maybe a few amends can stop myself from getting utterly damned.

A gentle force on my shoulders snaps me out of my trance. A rhythmic shaking, like a swing getting pushed from behind. I grunt in annoyance and the shaking stops for a while.

For a while.

Then it starts again and I blink my eyes open, enduring the blinding flash accompanying it. My vision gradually focuses from blank white to something more recognizable. With gray hair and wrinkled skin, an old man smiles in relief while staring at me. He takes a step back and sits on the chair parallel to me. I prop myself up and stare blankly at him for a moment, shock comes a second later as I gasp, eyes drifting on my own body in an instant. I have a bath towel covering half of me, yet I still feel drenched and cold. I shudder from a cold breeze that, I assume, blew straight towards me through an open door.. I can feel a mild sting on my face and try to touch it, only to recoil my hand back as the pain intensified upon touch.

 _I'm wounded? But where did I get this?_

 _No, more importantly…_

 _Am I… am I alive after all?_

"What…?" my voice hit my throat like a nail scraping on wall. It hurt.

As I panically try to stand, a pair of hands capture my shoulders with force and I look up sharply, hostility flashing in my eyes. What if this old man's a pervert who kidnapped me? Not that I'm attractive or anything but, eh, I still have the right to fear for my body, right?

The said man smiles, seemingly trying to ease my panic, "Easy, easy. No one's going to hurt you, young man."

"Where…?"

I blink rapidly as he lets go of me and takes up a telephone from a desk. I try to push myself back and my spine hits a soft thing I recognize as a pillow. I toss the bath towel away and examine myself. I'm still wearing the shirt and shorts I had on since earlier, all wet and dripping with rainwater now. My sickly pale skin contrasts with the black sofa I'm lying on; I almost look like a ghost. My throat is sore and I feel nauseous. That makes me realize I'm sick. Damn it.

"Yes, you're sick," the man said as he saw me feeling my forehead with the back of my hand. "Just lie down for a moment, the ambulance must be on its way now."

"Ambulance?"— _why would I need one?_

The man looks concerned, his brows furrow as he squints at me.

"Well," he said. "You were found lying outside of my pub earlier. And it's been raining, so I asked my staff to take you in. You're inside my office, by the way."

"Pub…" I mutter, my memories coming back at full speed. The pub, the murder and—

"Yukinoshita!"

"Y-Yuki-what?" he huffed, shocked by my sudden outburst.

I waste no time being vague, I get straight to the point, "S-Someone got shot! She's nearby!"

He whispered, alarmed, "…Shot?"

He looked agitated as he ran towards the telephone on the desk and dialed something, "Wait a minute," he said to me.

"Yes, yes…" he said in a hurry over the phone. "You sure…? But this boy here says—nevermind, thank you."

He drops the phone back onto its cradle and stares at me. I can feel a sudden increase in tension inside the room. I know he has bad news, based on his tense shoulders. It's like he's going to tell me that somebody just died.

 _I wonder who_ , I think in pained sarcasm.

I find myself gripping my hands in a tight fist and exhaling erratic breaths. I should mourn, I should cry, I should be sad. But I don't. I just feel… numb.

 _It's my entire fault… if I had just tried to, at least, cover her then, she… Yukinoshita… she would still be—_

"Young man," my thoughts were cut off when the man suddenly spoke. I steel myself to hear what he's going to say, even though I already expected the worst. "The guard said that he hadn't received any news about a shooting happening nearby," he nodded sympathetically at me. "Calm down, you must be hallucinating."

"H-Hallucinating?" I choke, with my heartbeat accelerating and knuckles turning white. "You're telling me that it was just my imagination?"

 _Who does he think he is? He has no right to say if what I've seen was real or not. I was there—not him!_

"You know what, fuck you," I growl and he gasps in response. "You didn't see what happened and if you're not gonna help anyway, butt out of it!"

I stride towards the door, realizing that I'm being rude. He just took me in as I was close to dying from the cold. Perhaps they just haven't heard the news yet? Impossible. How can that be then? It was literally just two block away from here and I'm sure a lot of people must have had seen it already! How can they not know about it? And besides, Yukinoshita's body is no longer there, so the ambulance must've taken her already. So what is he babbling about not knowing anything? If he doesn't want to get involved then at least say something, damn it!

A flight of stairs come into view and I waltz my way down, all drenched and dripping. When I get down, I see a familiar sight; tables and chairs lined up and a counter with a set of drinks behind. I stare vacantly as the scene unfolds before my eyes.

It's the pub.

Then, I remember, "The others… Yuigahama and the others…"

 _They're gone…_

 _They're no longer here…_

I hear footsteps and turn around. The old man from before is staring at me, again, with concern apparent in his eyes. "Is something the matter, young man?"

"T-The party…" I start but then stop myself. "Nevermind, seems like they left already anyway."

He looked confused, "I don't follow."

Strength leaves my body altogether as I sigh in exhaustion and grip the handrails, "The Sobu High students who partied here… I expected to see them… maybe ask for help… but they're gone now."

I feel lost, useless. I ran all the way here to get help and I'm late. I'm fucking late.

Looking down, I start dragging myself towards the exit. The pattering of raindrops are no longer heard, so I assume that the rain has stopped. I don't care anymore. The police can do their job. It's not like I'm obligated to seek help anyway. I'll just go home and sleep. Succumb myself into a literal slumber of eternity.

I just wish I had died too.

A hand drops on my shoulder and I assume that it was the old man again. For a brief moment, the thought of him having a weird fetish for shoulders crosses my mind. I swat his hand away in disgust, "I'll just go, sorry for the trouble."

"In that state?" he pointed at me. "You could at least dry yourself."

"Doesn't matter," I sigh. "I'll just go… not like I need to be here anyway."

I murmur, "They're not here after all…"

"You keep talking about meeting someone here," he said. "Does it involve those students you were talking about earlier?"

"Who else would I talk about?"— _and why do you care anyway?_

"Then maybe you're in a wrong place," he suggested with uncertainty. "We only got very few customers who came here today… perhaps they're at another place?"

I try to make sure, "This is a pub, right?" he nods. "You serve drinks and other stuff?" he nods again.

"How about other branches nearby with the same interior design as this one?" I ask, glancing around the area. It's the very same pub that I remember. I can still picture myself and Yukinoshita drinking our stuff back there in the corner. I look at him and he shakes his head.

"This is the only branch."

"Then this is the place I'm talking about, maybe you're getting too old, jii-san—forgetting your customers is one thing, but that Sobu High lot? No, I don't think so."

With a group as lively as they are, only an amnesiac could forget them.

"Sobu High?" a voice snapped, both mine and the old man's faces turn around in unison. A girl in a waitress uniform is seen holding what seems to be a logbook in her arms.

The old man cleared his throat and asks her, "What is it, Touka-chan?"

"Oh right, um…" she straightens her back. "I don't know if this will be useful or whatever but err, let's see," she opens the logbook and skims through it, while muttering, _"Sobu… sobu"_ under her breath.

"Here," she said quite triumphantly, then reads, "reservation for three tables, one signed by… Hayama Hayato."

 _Somehow, something doesn't feel right here._

"Hayama…?" _Not that I care, but why would he want to reserve again?_ "Are you sure about that?"

"Quite sure. Look," she shows me the record.

I stare at the page, seeing _Hayama Hayato_ written over a sassy scribble that I assume is his signature. I skim through trivial details, like how much he paid, when something catches my eye.

"…January eleven, Friday," I mutter, reading the scheduled date of the written reservation.

"Congrats, you know how to read," the waitress said sarcastically. "That's right, you're a day early, the reservation's for tomorrow."

"T-Tomorrow…?" I echo.

 _Something… really feels off here._

"But..." I mutter. "Today's the eleventh… right?"

 _Oh please… tell me you just got the date wrong._

She looks at me incredulously, "This guy needs professional help, manager. He's mental."

"Don't be rude, he's sick," said the old man, who had not been talking until now, then takes his phone out from his pocket. And, with it's screen alit, he shows it to me.

 _What greets me is…_

"Today's the tenth of January, young man. Not the eleventh."

The date on his phone is clear as day. In a panic I also take out my own phone, silently thanking my parents for having bought me a waterproof case, and look at the date.

 _ **Thursday, January 10 6:32 pm**_

This can't be true.

I try resetting my phone's date setting, but I still get the same outcome.

Just how the hell can today be the tenth of January?

For crying out loud, that was yesterday!

It's all but a silly ploy you're getting at, right?

 _This… this…_

 _This is just some prank, right?_

 _You're just messing with me, right?_

… _Right?_

"…Must be the cold then."

I hear the man before me mutter something, but I don't care.

 _I'm confused…_

 _I'm scared…_

"What… what is happening here—ugh!"

I fall on my butt as I keep backing and backing away. I feel my elbows graze the tiled floor, all hard and cold.

Then I find myself staring at my knees.

My shorts are ruffled all the way up to my legs, showing the pale skin I got from running through the rain earlier. It's still drenched and glistening but I quickly disregard that thought.

I keep staring at my knees, not believing what's in front of my eyes.

The wounds and bruises that I got from keeping up with Hayama at the marathon…

The silly ribbon bandage that Yukinoshita tied onto me for my injuries…

All of that, not even leaving behind a single trace, is now gone.

"Here, let me help you," I feel a pair of hands raise me to my feet. I keep looking down, muttering under my breath.

"The bandage… where… where is it?"

"What?"

"The bandage… and my wounds… where are my wounds…?"

"That's it manager, I'm outta here," I hear a voice from someone tinged with irritation. "That guy is crazy."

"You don't have to be rude, he's sick. Please, brew him some coffee for me," they kept talking to each other, but I no longer cared. I sit on the staircase and it feels like my brain went through a complete shutdown. I want to scream, I want to ask about everything, "I think it's better for you to lie down for a moment—"

 _And I want to be alone._

"Bathroom… can I use the bathroom?"

 _I need time to think._

…

I wander towards the sink, flick it on and gather water in my hands. It keeps spilling and spilling and I get annoyed. My hands, like my knees, seem to be shaking uncontrollably which is bemusing but not entirely surprising, given the situation I am in. I splash water onto my face and scrub it into my eyes, the folds of my nose and around my mouth, then I feel a prickly pain again—just like when my fingers touched my cheek earlier.

I look up from the sink and see a strange person staring back at me. Half of his face is covered by his bangs, all of it sticking to his skin and dripping with water. I see a bruise on his left cheekbone and I cringe. _That must've hurt_ , I think. The young man looks familiar, so I wave my hand.

He waves back.

I realize it's my reflection.

I stare at the mirror blankly, brushing away the hair that obstructs my view. For a moment, I marvel at my hair, styled without an ahoge. The single strand is nowhere to be seen, probably stuck with the other wet strands of hair.

I wipe my face with a paper towel and walk, like a starving zombie, towards the empty stall. After locking the door, I sit myself above the toilet seat. My eyes, as if drawn by a magnet, stare at the reason for my confusion again. I touch my knees, expecting to feel a little bit of pain. But nothing—I cup both of my knees forcefully, but I still can't feel anything.

 _There's nothing… the wounds… the bandage… that ribbon._

 _They're gone… as if I never had them all along._

But I'm sure I was hurt and bandaged. I may not be the brightest of all, but this is just a matter of remembering. I'm not forgetful in the least.

Right, just this afternoon, I ran the marathon with Hayama, then I collapsed and scraped my knees. And Yukinoshita, whether it was out of goodwill or obligation, tended to my injuries—tying that silly ribbon around it.

I ran a finger across the aforementioned part and all I can feel is my skin. All wet and cold, yet obviously unblemished. Like it hadn't been injured at all.

With a raised, shaking hand up to my face, I begin slapping myself repeatedly. I repeat this, again and again, in the hopes that if I slap myself enough, I would just wake up from this dream. No, it's a nightmare. A fucked up nightmare.

But even after my face felt sore, I felt no sign of waking up and so, I gave up. I stare at my foot blankly, looking at the mess I made with my shoes. They're both wet and torn from my earlier running. I offer a simple apology to them.

I take my phone out of my pocket and I stare at it. Every time I look at the date, it almost feels like a knife's gouging my eyes out. It pains me. It's mocking me; jumbling all the numbers and letters, saying " _you're doomed"_.

It says today's January ten, the day that I'm sure I already lived through yesterday.

My memories will be the proof of that. I can still remember everything that transpired. And besides, people don't just fall asleep and wake up the day before; it doesn't work like that.

 _But is this really just a dream?_

 _Have I really just dream a whole day of my life?_

There's one way to make sure.

After searching for a certain contact number in my phone, which didn't really take that long as I don't have many contacts anyway, I press _call_.

[Yahallo!]

"Yeah yeah," I dismiss Yuigahama. "Tell me, what day is it?"

[You called me just for that? What's up with you—]

"Just answer."

[It's Thursday, January ten.]

"You sure? Maybe your calendar's all mixed up?"

[Why would it be? Hey Hikki, what's wrong? You're being weird.]

"How about Miura's request? How is it going?"

[H-Hey… what's going on—]

"Please, Yuigahama… just answer."

[Ah o-okay? Well, we haven't had that much progress yet. Y'know? We've been trying so hard, but Hayato-kun seemed to not really want to tell anybody—oh, that reminds me… tomorrow's the deadline too, huh? Is that what you're worried about—]

"And the marathon… it's tomorrow, right?"

[Y-Yeah—hey, Hikki, will you tell me what's going on now?]

 _Tomorrow…_

I walk out of the stall, watching my reflection as it stares back at me, fear and confusion apparent in my eyes. All of what they're saying is true, it's really the tenth of January.

[Hikki…?]

I hear Yuigahama's voice from my speaker. Ah, stupid. I forgot that I was talking to her.

"Uhm, sorry…" I squeeze out an apology, even though I'm having a hard time breathing. "S-Sorry to bother you… uh, thank you for your time."

I was ready to click _end-call_ when Yuigahama protested.

[Eh?! Already? W-Wait, let's talk more! You gotta tell me what's going on unless I'll be really worried—]

"It's fine, Yuigahama," I lie. "I'm fine. But I still have something to do, okay? Let's call it a night."

[…Yeah, okay.]

"Bye."

[Ah, wait, Hikki…]

"What is it?" I ask impatiently.

[I can tell something's troubling you… just wanna let you know that I'm here to listen if you wanted to talk, okay?]

I realize my mistake as I hear her say that. I've been so confused that I treated her so badly this time. Cutting her off while she talked, and asking her weird things…

 _God, am I stupid._

"Thanks," I smile, even though she can't actually see it—I can't help it. "Thank you, really… sorry if I've been rude."

[Don't mind it, I understand.]

"Alright, bye then."

[Hmm, bye.]

And with that, I end the call and chuck my phone back into my pocket. I stand stock-still inside the bathroom. I can't bring myself to move even an inch. I can't even breathe properly. I inhaled deep breaths in order to calm myself, then I stop.

 _Breathing in the bathroom air?_

 _No thanks._

"If this is some joke to make me crazy…" I whisper as I twist the doorknob. "It's working… god is it working."

…

"Looks like the madman's back," the waitress's not so nice greeting welcomes me as I come out of the bathroom. What's her name again?

 _Touka-chan, is it?_

 _Wait, does that ring a bell?_

I can see the old man looking at me. He's sitting on one of the chairs that, I assume, he took all the way over here. It seemed that he was waiting for me.

 _He's too nice._

 _And I've been too rude._

 _Damn it._

"Um… I'm sorry," I bow, pondering if I should perform dogeza. "I was really rude earlier, despite knowing that you helped me so much… I'm really sorry."

He smiles at me, "We hold no grudges, it's quite alright." I heard the waitress snort, so I ignore her.

"Come on, have a seat," the old man beckoned me towards the other chair beside him, handing me the cup of coffee in his hands. "Here, drink."

"T-Thank you," I sit as I take a sip. _It's good._

"Seems like you've calmed yourself, no?" he asked with concern. "Well, either way, I suggest you still check with a doctor. Or should I call off the ambulance?"

I nod, "That's a good idea…"

 _I really don't need an ambulance anyway._

… _Maybe a ride towards the asylum will do._

"I see. Touka-chan, will you wait for the ambulance outside for me?" she nods. "Tell them we don't need them now, inform me if they ask for a penalty payment—"

 _P-Penalty payment?_

"Y-You don't have to—"

"It's alright," he dismissed me with a smile.

"I'm really sorry," I felt ashamed to even let them pay for the penalties.

The waitress… or Touka-chan, gets out from the scene to wait for the ambulance. She bowed to the manager before leaving, completely ignoring me. _Not that I care anyway._

An awkward silence unfolded between me and the old man, so I keep sipping my coffee as a distraction. Then he speaks suddenly and I jump, "If you don't mind, may I know your name?"

I see no reason to refuse, so I answer, "Ah, Hikigaya. Hikigaya Hachiman."

"Hmm," he nodded. "Well I'm Yoshimura and I'm the manager here, it's nice to meet you, Hikigaya-san."

"Likewise," I say while shaking his hand. "If I'm imposing too much, I can just go, you know? You've already done so much for me."

"No worries," he waved his hands. "You can finish your coffee first, then I'll ask one of my staff members to give you a ride home."

 _Say, you're not a saint, right?_

"That's not necessary," I refuse. "I can just walk."

"You sure? You don't have to worry about troubling my staff if that's what you're thinking. He'll be out for delivery anyway, you can just get a lift from him."

 _Delivery huh? Well, I guess that's fine._

"I guess I'll take you up on that offer."

He stands up and stretches his back. After walking towards the glass panes while watching the passing cars, he looks back at me.

"Hikigaya-san, just a word of advice," I look back at him, he has this very serious face on that I haven't seen him make since earlier. Just by looking at it makes me realize something; he's old, and has gone through a lot. Those eyes show the years of life he's experienced. "If someone's treading a rough road, the best option is to be calm... most of the time. Try to analyze the situation, search for ways to progress and avoid getting a heated head."

He smiles at me, "Can you do that?"

I look down, "Yeah... I guess."

"Good luck," he said, looking knowingly at me. "I think you might need it. You seem to be having a hard time."

I snort internally. _Oh, if you only knew_.

…

The delivery vehicle that old man Yoshimura mentioned before turned out to be a motorcycle, much to my displeasure. But I can't complain, right?

 _Beggars can't be choosers._

He lent me a particularly thick coat and I took it with no hesitation. More than anything else, I needed something to prevent me from freezing.

A cold breeze blows by as I ride on the back of the vehicle, being maneuvered by some white-haired chap who doesn't like to talk.

 _What's his name again?_

 _Yomo-san?_

 _Why does every name in that pub sound familiar?_

Anyway, I was glad that the staff member knew where my street was (probably due to being a delivery guy) but then I become uneasy as we stride our way to my house. Flashes of a road with a puddle of blood on it crossed my mind. And no matter how hard the motorcycle I rode on shook, these thoughts didn't leave my head.

By having talked with Yuigahama, my fears of Yukinoshita getting killed have dissipated, at least a little bit. But they haven't gone away completely. In fact, I'm still scared. By now, Yukinoshita might be in her apartment, safe and sleeping, but what about tomorrow?

 _What if the eleventh of January was really cursed for her?_

 _What if that wasn't just a dream, but a foresight of the future? And an omen?_

 _What if she really died?_

No.

No, to hell with it.

Whether it was a dream or some baseless paranoia, I won't let that _future event_ happen this time.

If fate just decided to pull a prank on me, then it's an epic fail. You can't prank me. I've been pranked a million times before, and can see past all of that now.

Seeing the nostalgic view of my house from afar, I smile in relief. Mainly because I feel safe by just being near my home, and partly because I have accepted the challenge.

 _And what challenge, you may ask?_

 _I'll make sure that this prank backfires._

I mutter under my breath, my voice muffled by the roar of the engine and wind, "…Death be damned."

* * *

 **Notes** : Back with the continuation. Yay! As usual, special thanks to BlackPsych for proofreading. Anyway, maybe someone noticed that Anteiku rip-off I did there. That was intentional. I'm hoping that borrowing the place might make the scene more vivid - I mean why not? Who doesn't know Anteiku?

Reviews will be deeply appreciated, so don't hesitate to leave one.

See you again in the next chapter.

PS: Oh right, before I forget. That part where Hikki's running all the way to the pub might look OOC. But since he's too panicked at the moment, it can't be helped, right? I think most people will react illogically when placed at that situation anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: I did some changes on the first chapter, since I fucked up so hard with the tenses on that part. So for the new readers (if there are even), you're welcome. You've been spared from dying of too much cringe.**

 **Warning: Expect an idiotic and overly-denial Hikki.**

 **Proofread by Black Psych**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

It's as if the guy upstairs suddenly adjusted the colors of the world as easily as twisting one of those old plastic dials on a TV set. Everything is duller than it should be; the trees, the pavements, everything appears in monochromes of greys and blacks. The buildings are dull, as if they'd been taken from an uncolored manga.

Everything is in their rightful place, but it is still wrong — very wrong.

Not to mention that I keep asking myself how the hell I've been floating around. My feet are a good few feet above the ground. So am I a ghost now? A spirit? Nothing but air, perhaps?

I look down and notice a figure looming below me. It's crying. No, it's more than that; it's the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. The figure sank to its knees on the cold brick road, not caring for the damp mud that dirtied their clothes. I peek closer to look at its face.

It's Yukinoshita.

She sobs into her hands and tears drip between her fingers, raining down onto her lap. Her breathing is ragged and she gasps as an uncontrollable shaking rocks her shoulders. Droplets continue to fall from her eyes straight down to the cold ground, and it seems likely that she won't stop.

Then there's me, not the current me watching from above, but another me down below. To be clear, there are two of us, although he has a body and I have none. He stands there unmoving, not giving a single twitch of a muscle as the girl cries before him. He doesn't care one bit. It makes me sick. I hate him.

I hate myself.

Tap, tap, tap

A masked man wearing a tuxedo comes in, his hard-heeled shoes echoing with each step. He also wears a hat, like those of a magician's. He takes the hat off and slides his hand inside it. But instead of a bunny — he takes out a gun.

He points the gun straight at Yukinoshita's head.

Then, there's a gunshot.

Before I know it, there's a hole on Yukinoshita's forehead with blood gushing through it like an unplugged bath tub. The bullet wound looks nothing like I expected from my years of action anime-viewing. Instead of a neat reddened hole, it oozed with dark congealing blood and a pungent smell of iron permeated the air. But in spite of her condition, she continues crying, oblivious to the harm that man inflicted on her.

Another gunshot.

Pieces of her brain fall to the ground, and the thought of never seeing Yukinoshita in such an ugly state before crosses my mind. Her head is a crumpled ball of gore, donned with long raven hair.

The man puts the gun back in his hat, slides it again onto his head, and bows. Despite the sad face engraved on his mask, his presence seems to emit an aura of satisfaction for a job well done.

And with that, he's gone.

Yukinoshita raises her head, her crying long ceased. A gurgling sound comes out of her throat.

Then she looks at me.

Not the me that's standing like a stupid ornament beside her, but me as the spectator.

Then she speaks.

 _"Someday..."_

And as I'm overwhelmed by a falling sensation,

 _"...Help me, okay?"_

The image of a roller coaster falling down a slope crosses my mind.

 **~※~**

I wake up with my heart in my throat and my face wet with sweat, wishing I could erase those afterimages of Yukinoshita in my head. Why couldn't it have been one of those dreams that instantly faded away the moment you opened your eyes?

I can never get lucky, can I?

I stand and peek around. The room is relatively quiet, save for my breathing.

I slowly make my way to the door, ease it open, and then slip into the hallway. Keeping my footfalls quiet enough so as to not wake up my sleeping parents, I descend the stairs and head straight into the kitchen. I didn't bother flicking the lights on as I took a tumbler from the fridge.

The glass of water shakes in my hands as I drink. I heave a sigh, gazing through the window at the dark road outside. It takes my eyes a while to recognize the familiar silhouettes of the gently swaying trees but once they do, my heartbeat begins to slow down.

 _No one is dead. No murderers. No goddamn guns._

Images from earlier flood inside me and I'm suddenly engulfed in a deep sense of insecurity. I tip-toe across the room, barely avoiding the pointed-end of the coffee table with my shin, and open the door to the backyard.

Once outside, I gingerly walk until I reach the unroofed end of the lawn. The grass feels mercifully soft under my bare feet, like a slightly damp blanket. A breeze blows and I close my eyes, kneel down, and lie on my back. The feeling of honeydew caressing my skin through the fabric felt oddly comforting.

I prop my arms up behind my head, using them as a pillow. I've somehow calmed myself down, with the silence acting as balm for my panic. Though I don't have to look to know that my hands are still shaking. Then, after taking a long deep breath, I begin to ask myself some things.

Is it possible to dream of having another dream? I have a hunch about what is going on, but my hunch is only comprised of dumb facts — not to mention senseless theories. I have never been a fan of using circumstantial evidence, so obviously I won't jump to conclusions.

But still, I can't help but feel a strong sense of paranoia. That was a dream, as far as I'm concerned — but was it really?

A sigh that takes half a year's growth escapes my lips. Dreams are best left forgotten; they are nothing but pointless series of images flashing through your mind during sleep. No matter how realistic they may seem at times, they are still nothing but fruits of our fancy. Yes, perhaps past memories can be seen — but those are obvious exceptions. After all, past memories are best left forgotten as well.

However, try as I might, I can't bring myself to forget it. At this point, I have no doubt that I would surely snap should another recollection overdrives me. For the worst part, I fully rely on my ability to always think logically. But what is there to logically think about?

Nothing.

Because everything I'm experiencing right now is downright illogical.

I squeeze my eyes shut and mutter something that would likely get me slapped by Mom. Never in my whole life did I expect to be so riled up about a single dream.

"Is there a reason you're out here?"

It's like a bolt of lightning ran straight into my chest. Adrenaline pumps inside me and before I know it, I'm standing upright, posing a stance I learned from a thousand TV shows.

A figure stands by the doorway, though as it's frustratingly dark, I can't make out its face. Another breeze blows by and, as the clouds part, giving way for the moonlight to shine down, I am greeted by a familiar face.

By the door, wearing my old oversized tee as a nightdress is Komachi. Her black hair floats in short little wisps across her forehead and against her cheeks. Her eyes are big and glowing under the terrible rawness of the moonlight, the reflection of the dull green lawn beating against her eyes that hardly resemble mine.

She blinks at me with a confused look, "What's with the Kung Fu?" then she asks with a small laugh.

Panic ebbs away as I slide back down with a snort. There's a series of muffled footsteps and she plops herself beside me.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, then stops. She looks at me thoughtfully then nods, "Nightmare?"

That took me off guard. "So you're a mind reader now, huh?"

"Sadly, no. But it's obvious, really." She holds three fingers, "One, the clock said half past three when I heard some shuffling in the kitchen. Two, I get up and find you here instead of your bed. And three, you looked like you'd just seen Godzilla before you recognized me."

A quiet smirk escapes my lips. Trust her to pick up on that. "You're too damn clever for your own good."

"I'm a girl, Onii-chan," she laughs a little. "Did you expect me to be as thick-headed as you?"

I look away and stay silent. Truth be told, I would really appreciate some time alone right now. But I can't possibly just shun Komachi away. She went out of her way to accompany me, and that was nice. I don't want to hurt her feelings. So, instead of sending her away, I gaze up at the sky. The stars wink at me from above, and for a brief moment, I wonder how it would feel like to be a star. Wouldn't it be nice, having nothing to worry about at all? Just twinkling mindlessly up there without worrying if you're on the verge of insanity, or something like that.

"Hey... what's with that on your face?"

Komachi's worried tone pulls me out of my reverie.

I shake my head, "I just hit on something."

She probably meant the bruise on my left cheek. But there's no way I'll tell her that I collapsed in the middle of the road last night.

"Want me to bandage that?"

"Nah, I can do it myself."

She nods worriedly, but keeps silent after that.

I find the darkness strange. Not used to waking up early, I have grown used to only seeing the warming, orange glow of the sunlight every morning; its light filtering in through the gaps of my curtains. This blackness, however, is something I can't recall seeing before — one that's almost absolute.

I squeeze my eyes shut and the darkness still lingers.

"What's the matter…? You look horrible," without opening my eyes, I listen to Komachi's voice.

"Just thinking about something."

"Isn't that always the case?" she giggles. "What was your dream about anyway?"

I consider whether I should tell her or not for a moment. Knowing her, she would probably make a big fuss, so telling her something as sensitive as this matter will be out of account.

Thus, I open my eyes and face her.

"Nothing worth retelling," I decide to change the subject. "By the way, where are your shoes?"

"Hush you," she glares at my equally defenseless feet. "Right back at you though... and you know it's not my fault I thought a burglar came in, so I rushed all the way here. But since it's you," she snorts, "I wasn't too far off, right?"

I snort in response then look away, again. But as I'm about to let my mind wander off to something pointless, an idea strikes me.

"Hey Komachi..." I trail off. There's no way I'd tell her everything about that dream, but it won't hurt to give her a brief overview, right? After all, maybe she can help me. "Have you... err, have you ever had a dream so realistic before? Then you woke up and it, uh... it made you think twice whether it really was a dream or not?"

A big, yellow question mark seemingly appears over her head, "Come again?"

I rack my brain for a better explanation.

"Let's put it this way; say you're having a dream — a very realistic one," I emphasize my point with a hand gesture. "But then you wake up, and it feels like a memory instead of a dream..."

I should give up. There's no way that Yuigahama-tier head of hers would comprehend my equally Yuigahama-tier explanation. I slump my arms and shoulders, looking up and, to my utter surprise, I see Komachi putting on a thoughtful face.

"So in a nutshell..." she looks uncertain, but continues, "you're confusing a dream with a memory?"

To say that I'm dumbstruck is a gross understatement. She actually came up with a better explanation.

I can only nod in return.

"Hmmm," she looks at me seriously, "maybe you're actually confusing a memory for a dream?"

I raise a brow at that.

"You say your dream feels like a memory..." she puts a finger to her chin. "What if that was really a memory all along?"

Now this is interesting. I narrow my eyes, "Explain."

She scratches her head and smiles sheepishly, "It's really hard to explain though..."

I narrow my eyes and gave her a look that says, " _I'll shove your head to your ass if you don't talk any moment now._ "

"Jeez..." She crosses her legs and takes a thinking pose, pressing both her knuckles to her temples.

 _Wait, how is that a thinking pose?_

"Let's take it this way, say you broke a vase and then forgot all about it. Then err, you slept and dreamt about it," she smiles, rather triumphantly. "So when you woke up, you thought it was a dream instead!" She claps.

"While, in truth," I gulp. "I really broke the vase..."

She nods happily, unaware of my inner turmoil. Her theory makes sense, but if I accept that 'that dream' was, in fact, a memory — then I'm in deep trouble.

So I lay there, watching the starlit sky, trying to patch up the holes dug in my sanity.

 **~※~**

After a few more yawns, Komachi decides to give in with a sigh.

"I'm still sleepy, I'm heading back Onii-chan..."

I nod. She looks at me with her hand on the doorknob.

"You?"

I shake my head, "I'll stay here for a while, I guess."

She looks worried, but just nods, "Alright, just make sure to get some more sleep, m'kay?"

I nod again and the door closes.

I stay there for a while, watching everything that comes to view. Then I think about my situation; about how that dream felt so real, about how seeing an imaginary version of Yukinoshita getting killed unsettled me so, and about how I feel that I'm about to head on the same path again. Come to think of it, today is supposed to be the deadline for Miura's request too. But, despite how absurd it sounds, I can't help but feel like we have already concluded the request.

It's disturbing how I just **know** that Hayama is about to pick Liberal Arts. But what's even more unsettling is that I have a semblance of the facts to justify my conclusion.

Shaking my head out of a trance, I stand up and walk back inside. Komachi is nowhere to be seen, so I guess she went back to bed already. There's no way I'd be able to go back to my room after that nightmare; I'd just feel like Alice from Wonderland after eating a whole slice of Upelkuchen. So I begin to stretch, letting my blood flow, when an idea strikes me as my eyes hit the kitchen.

After flicking on the lights and snatching my long-forgotten apron, I wash my hands so I could start preparing.

Might as well make breakfast for a change.

 **~※~**

Nothing remarkably unusual happened during breakfast, save for my parents' various reactions about me cooking breakfast. Mom was so touchy about it, smiling widely as she watched me plate the eggs like I was receiving my college diploma. Dad, on the other hand, was still a bastard as always.

He looked sore as hell.

Later though, Mom patted me on the shoulder and whispered something. She said that it wasn't me who Dad was mad about. Something about him losing one of his most 'prized belongings'.

I stayed put after that. Maybe I'm better off not knowing what that 'prized belonging' is all about.

The weather outside is chilly. Cars and cyclists cruise along, while students on their way to school stroll down the sidewalks, and here I am with them — biking slower than my usual pace. My legs feel as sore as dad.

Probably an after effect of all the running I did last night.

After remembering that particular thought, I think about the party that will supposedly take place after the marathon today. I'm sure there is one though; I've already taken a peek at the reservation Hayama paid for last night.

However, the problem doesn't lie on how I know about this — rather it lies on the party itself. As far as that 'dream' is concerned, I must attend that party; meaning I will have to go back to that pub. But the majority of the pub's staff already knows my face — not to mention that damnable waitress. There is no doubt that they will recognize me should I go back there. And it's not like I can bail just because of that.

So, as irrational as it may be, seeing the staff once again is inevitable, I guess. Embarrassment is an old friend of mine... so yeah, I'll just suck it up. I just hope that pub lot will respectfully accept my shame and desire for privacy. In case they don't, I'll be mentally preparing for the bitching Yukinoshita would spew should everything that happened yesterday reach her ears.

Another sigh slips through my lips, I'll just have to cross that bridge if or when I get there. For now, let's focus on the current matter at hand. Miura's request is still ongoing, much to my chagrin. I already coerced Totsuka's help for the plan I had in mind last night too — or more like I remember doing so, but that's not important. All I need to do is to execute the plan today and see how it goes.

Exhaling a deep breath, I look ahead. I went out a little early so there are still no other students biking around. Which is good. Solitude is always good. The familiar building of Sobu High reaches my view and I feel a tiny pang of dread with a little tinge of excitement. I get this odd feeling that I'm subconsciously trying to reenact things. Which is bullshit; life is not some kind of playback video where you can rewind to a specific part.

After locking my bike at the racks, I pass through the main door of the campus building. Muffled voices of the other students reach my ears and I can't stop myself drawing a feeling of comfort from it.

This is real — that particular thought screams inside me. This is not a dream and not a nightmare either.

As I climb stairs on the way to my classroom, I take out my phone. It's weird, I have been checking the time more frequently today. Anyway, it's a quarter before eight and obviously a couple of minutes before classes start. I let out a snort unconsciously. Well, isn't that unusual? I never thought that there'd be a time when I **wasn't** running late for class... but it's a good thing, so who am I to complain?

I exhale a deep breath, letting vapor come out of my mouth, and look ahead. Some of the windows are ajar, so the cold breeze outside makes its way in. Since I don't have the good will nor the energy to lock each and every window in this whole school, I simply adjust my scarf and bury half of my face in it. I lower my hand and as I'm about to slide my phone back into my pocket, a blinking icon catches my view.

Frowning, I look at it.

An unread message.

[Heya Hikki! U're acting like, super weird last nyt so I thought I'd check up on u! Hope u feel better now, CYA!]

 _What's with this painfully sweet and misleading message...?_

I chuck my phone back into my pocket, adjust the bag on my shoulders, and turn around a corner.

—And unfortunately, someone else turned at the same time.

A stab of pain shoots through my left cheek after a sudden impact collided in my face. My hand instinctively reached out to touch the stinging part and, to my surprise, I felt damp. I gaze downwards and see red.

Ah, I see. First blood at my expense — an additional five hundred gold to the enemy team!

"Would it trouble you to watch where you're going?"

A voice that would give Elsa a run for her money prompts me to look up.

Then, I stiffen.

It's Yukinoshita.

Of course, and I was already wondering how I'd react at the sight of her. By 'react' however, I didn't expect having a sudden cardiac arrest. My heart gave out such a thump that I'm sure even my ancestors heard.

She had a hand caressing her reddened forehead, so I assume she hasn't noticed me yet.

Should I run?

No, because a second later, she looked up.

"Hikigaya-kun...?" Her expression changes from irritation to surprise. Then, to my surprise as well, she gasps and holds up a hand, covering her mouth, "Y-Your face..."

"Ah, it must've bled when we bumped." The bruise I had since last night probably opened up due to the impact and is now bleeding slightly. It even hurts more than before. I look at Yukinoshita and see her looking back at me with an expression completely different from her usual self. Her warm gaze is tinged with apparent guilt, and I can't help but crack a smile. "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault. I already had this since last night—!"

I didn't get the chance to finish my sentence since a sudden force tugged at my sleeve and dragged me away from where I was standing. Yukinoshita was pulling me like a dog on a leash. After understanding what was happening, I try to pry my sleeve away from her.

She didn't budge though.

"Hey, woman."

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," she says without looking at me as she continues to pull.

"Err, I could just wipe the blood off and bandage it later-"

She stops and glares at me, "Which will lead to that sorry face of yours being more rotten than it is now." She flicks her hair as she turns away and begins to walk again. "I don't know about you, but it would unsettle me to have a zombie loitering inside the clubroom."

"But that doesn't mean you have to stick around too," I rebuke, still trying to keep my balance in check. Truth be told, it's a struggle to keep up with her pace, especially when all I have is someone's back right in front of me.

"Take it as an act of self-satisfaction on my part," she suddenly says without looking at me. "I feel partly responsible anyway. Besides that, I'm worried that you'd accidentally confuse a detergent for an antiseptic."

Hey hold up, aren't you mistaking me for some other person? My name is not Yuigahama, you know.

"Just stop whining and follow along," she tugs at my sleeve harder and I almost stumble forward. "Honestly, you should be grateful."

Before I knew it, we reached the infirmary. To my surprise, Yukinoshita didn't bother knocking and just barged in — which was unusual for her in many ways. Anyway, there's no one inside. Good thing that I wouldn't get caught up in trouble if someone got pissed by Yukinoshita's sudden act of discourtesy.

After pushing the door with a click, I walk towards the medicine cabinet. Amidst the other first aid kit stuff, I begin my search for bandages.

"Isn't the nurse supposed to be here?" I asked, frustrated at not finding a single bandage inside. What kind of medicine cabinet is this anyway? A white thing catches my interest, so I pick it up. It seems familiar, I think I already saw something like this at home — I think it looks like that one thing Komachi uses for...

I slam the cabinet close, ignoring the pink colored box.

"She's present at the venue for the marathon," Yukinoshita's voice echoes behind me and I crane my neck to look at her. "I assume she's preparing the booth there. Anyway, it's a good thing you stopped rummaging through the female's medicine cabinet," she glares at me, "emphasis on _female's_."

"Yeah whatever..." I say as I approach her. She's holding an antiseptic and a pack of cotton balls. I stretch out my arms. "Alright, just give me those."

"No, sit here," she says, setting two chairs parallel to each other.

I don't need to be a genius to know what's about to happen here.

"No, I'll do it myself," I insist, stretching my hand again.

"No," she refuses, stubbornly jerking her chin to the empty chair while sitting on the other one. "Sit."

Sighing in defeat, I sit down and slump my shoulders. Damn it, why do I feel like a dog being ordered around? Not to mention how ironic it is — Yukinoshita hates dogs.

Anyway, now that I'm sitting where she ordered me to, I realize how incredibly awkward our position is. We're sitting face to face with each other, just a couple of feet away. My back straightens by itself and the soles of my indoor shoes suddenly look fascinating.

"If you don't mind me asking," She begins, with my head bowed down all I can see is her hand as she twists open the bottle of antiseptic, "where'd you get that bruise?"

"Got in a fight with my desk last night."

"Oh, I see," I hear her snort. "Even furniture hates you. Maybe because you have awful luck, awful eyes, or perhaps—"

"My personality, my attitude, everything about me is..."

I trail off, feeling a massive surge of deja vu washing over me—

"...awful."

"Raise your head," she says and I comply. I freeze as I soon as I see that she's so close to me. She draws her chair even closer to dab the wet cotton ball on my cheek. I'm too embarrassed to wince even as my bruise suddenly stings. A shiver runs down my spine and I shake.

Yukinoshita clicks her tongue and reaches out to my face with her other hand. She holds my head firmly in place and to say that I'm stunned at her actions is an understatement. Have mercy on me. Medusa, please look away.

"Stop shaking, Quirrel."

"I don't have the dark lord hanging behind my head," I blurt unconsciously and she lets out a small laugh.

A brief silence falls between us — not the comfortable kind we have while inside the clubroom, but a painfully awkward silence.

"Nee-san..." she suddenly mutters, I look at her in response. But she's not looking at me, instead her eyes are focused on what she's doing. "Nee-san used to do this for me when we we're younger."

"I see," is all I can say. This is probably the second time Yukinoshita told me something personal, after a long while. It's not that it's odd, just surprising.

She releases her grip on my head and I'm left with an odd feeling of emptiness. She puts the antiseptic bottle down on the table beside her and throws the used cotton balls into the trash can. She takes a bandage strap from a box and peels it open, then outstretches her hand close to my face again; but this time she doesn't touch my head as she needs two hands to plaster the bandage. A gentle pressure is laid upon my left cheek and I wonder if she's being this considerate to not hurt me.

Being in this unusually close proximity, I can't help but stare at her face. No, let me stop you before you think of me as a pervert lavisciously looking at her. It just fascinates me — her face, that is. Her emotions are carefully hidden beneath her stoic face. It's almost as if I'm looking at an ice sculpture; hard and cold, but beautiful nonetheless. But there's one exception — her eyes allow me to have a peek inside.

She's completely focusing on placing the bandage upon my cheek, so I don't have to worry about her noticing. Her pupils are like a bottomless pool of darkness, and I can't help but find a hint of loneliness inside. It is as if an imaginary hand is calling out to me, pleading me to reach out for it. The fact that she suddenly told me something regarding Haruno-san with a melancholic face gives me the idea that things are still going rough on her side. However, I choose to not do anything.

Why?

Because it's there — beneath the lonely dark circles is a glint I've become so familiar of. There's pride and fierceness within them and I know that she can pull herself out, even if I don't reach out my hand.

That's when I realize that Yukinoshita's eyes are ever so representative of her. She may always look cold and uncaring, but like most other people (except me, of course), it's her eyes that hold her genuine emotions. I smile as it also occurs to me that these eyes are the best I've ever seen.

"S-Stop staring..." an embarrassed voice takes me out of my trance and I see Yukinoshita eyeing me warily with a pink flush on her face.

"O-Oh." Do you know what awkward sounds like? It's the sudden silence followed by the chirping of crickets; the same sound that I'm hearing at the moment. "Yeah, my bad..." I mutter, scratching the back of my head. "You done yet?"

"Yes," she says as she gives me a meek smile, her ears still pink, "all done."

I stand up, "Um, thanks."

She glances at her watch, probably a tactic to distract herself out of her embarrassment, then she gasps. She hastily stands up, snatching her bag in the process. "I'm running late..."

She waltzes towards the door and opens it, but before she gets out, she turns and offers me a smile, "See you later," she raises her hand and shakes it a little, waving helplessly.

"Yeah," I nod, "watch out before you turn corners though."

She giggles softly and with that, the door closes.

As much as I would have liked for classes to fly by today, they didn't. Every lecture today was like some prolonged torture for me; mostly because I had to anxiously wait for the event that would take place afterwards. There was also this strenuous job of avoiding Yuigahama's gaze the whole time. She seemed so unusually mindful of me this morning, so our eyes met more often than usual. When they did, I just pretended to not notice her and took a sleeping posture. _What the heck was that? Honestly, it was killing me._

Classes were cut off at noon so we could prepare for the marathon. Truth be told, I have mixed feelings about the whole event. This, at most, is just a school-only marathon. It's not a particularly flashy event nor did it affect our grades. Tell you what, if I didn't have something important to accomplish by joining this event, I would have backed out already and just faced an hour lecture from Sensei.

Just face it; being forced to run in this cold weather won't really motivate many people. To make things worse, the committee also forcefully dragged other students to help them out with the preparations. I'm not one of them, though, thankfully.

Thus here I am, in the men's locker room, changing into my gym clothes.

I can't help but feel something eerie as I slip into my track pants. The last time I saw it (in my alleged dream), it was all smudged up with dirt and torn around the knee area. But now it's nothing but a scarcely-used piece of clothing, and it's spooking me out.

I shake my head to forget that thought.

Along with the other students, I walk from the school grounds to the starting point. Again — I see absolutely no point in doing this. What's the deal with making us walk over there and then force us to run all the way to where we came from? Retards.

Good thing the facilitators are merciful enough to let us take the shorter route, so after a few minutes of walking, we finally arrive.

Following the instructions given to us, we line ourselves up according to our genders. The males are to take off first while the girls will start thirty minutes later. So, that means they are going to watch us as we run.

I take a deep breath. The soreness in my legs hasn't gone off completely and I feel like my lower half is on the verge of rigor mortis. Not to mention that it's Hayama I need to catch up with.

I sigh a little.

Alright. Just this once, let's be positive.

I maneuver through the crowd of people with ease, as they are unexpectedly making way for me (am I really that repulsive?). Like I said, not everyone is happy about this whole event; just one quick glance around at those irritated faces are proof of that. Everyone is either feeling too lazy to run or freezing to death.

Well, except for this one person.

The grandiose poseur, Hayama Hayato.

With the expectations of acquiring another victory this year, he is not allowed to take it easy. Frankly put, it will be a sin if he ends up with an unsightly result.

As Hayama stretches his body, a boom of cheering erupt from the girls watching him. That takes his attention and he waves.

The showoff. Just go to hell already.

At the end of where he waves at, slightly afar from the annoying girls, is Miura. Beside her is Ebina-san, Yuigahama and a little far back is Yukinoshita. Isshiki comes by a little shortly and meets Miura's gaze, she bows and Miura nods.

"Hayama-senpai, doooo your best...! Ah, and while I'm at it, Senpai too!" she exclaims.

Isshiki and Tobe are arguing about something and, as I'm about to ignore them, my eyes meet with Yuigahama's.

"D-Do your best," she waves meekly.

As I offer her a nod, I see Yukinoshita glancing at me as well. She nods and mutters something I can't quite hear. I nod back anyway.

Oh well, that's enough motivation I suppose.

The path to where Hayama stands is very crowded, but soon enough, I find myself standing a few steps behind him. I pat Totsuka's shoulder after he joins right beside me, accompanied with the tennis club members behind him.

"Let's do our best," I nod.

"Hmmm, let's do our best Hachiman!"

After that, there's a sound similar to a gunshot.

I flinch, my heart beating like crazy in my chest as I see Hiratsuka-sensei holding a smoking pistol in her hand. She sees me and raises a brow, and I realize that the other students are already running. Totsuka looks back at me too, his eyes urging me to move.

I shake my head and take a deep, deep breath.

Then I begin to run.

 **~※~**

There's no discussing whether this is a good idea or not. It's simply bad, it's unplanned and it's stupid. Worse, it could even end up with me in the infirmary again.

But I'll tell you what, I am well past the point of caring.

Only after five minutes of running, my legs start burning. It is as if some stupid guy cemented my limbs and left it to dry overnight. But whatever, I decided to do this, so there's no backing down now. I have a whole marathon to face. Better put on my game face, or whatever.

At least I managed to catch up to this guy. So that's a win.

I sigh a little. It was something between catching one's breath and a snort, so it sounded more like a whimper. My legs still hurt too.

"You don't look good," Hayama, who has been running like a degraded version of Barry Allen, smirks at me without a single bead of sweat, "want a piggyback?"

"No thanks…" my reply comes out between pants, so surprisingly still audible. I let out a breath, similar to a Terminator's.

"So uh," Hayama starts, "to whom do I owe the pleasure of being accompanied by you?"

Oh classic. Sarcasm huh? Well lucky for you that thinking of a witty remark is not one of my priorities right now. I'm sorry but I'd rather focus on breathing.

After a while, as if getting impatient by my silence, Hayama decides to bring the main topic up.

"This is about which course I took, isn't it?" he slows his pace a little and offers a brief glance at my direction. His face is uncharacteristically scrunched up into a look of mild annoyance, and I can't stop myself from smirking.

"Nice deduction."

"I won't tell you—"

"I won't ask though," I cut him off, earning an incredulous glance from him. I mind my own pace and breathing as I continue, "Just let me guess. You went with the Liberal Arts, right?"

Hayama, to his credit, doesn't show that much of an expression as he heard me. But I know I caught him off guard since, for a single moment, his shoulders tensed a little and his eyes briefly flickered between me and the road, easy and unblinking.

Then he looks at me impassively.

However, I already saw the reaction I wanted.

"And what gave you that idea?"

"Uh, I don't know," I shrug my shoulders. "Guesswork, maybe?"

"Really now, guesswork?" he scoffs. "I expected better from you, Hikitani."

"Well," I look away to create some effect, then continue nonchalantly, "my first guess was actually the Sciences, since it aligns perfectly with your desired conditions."

"Conditions?"

He glances at me curiously, though honestly, the lack of curiosity on his tone already gave him away.

"Oh don't play dumb with me," I look back at him and raise a brow. "You know full well what I'm talking about."

He keeps silent after that. Above us, the orange tinted clouds filter the sunlight that comes from the afternoon rays. Yet, it is still cold. It rained last night, and the sidewalks and asphalts are still faintly wet, while the air is a bit thick and suffocating. I look at him. He just keeps running without uttering a single word. In normal cases, I wouldn't mind being ignored; I have been ignored many times before I could almost earn a living off from that. But this is not a normal case and, somehow, his unwanted silence pisses me off.

"Wanna hear what's on my mind?" I align myself with him by matching his pace, cracking a smile. "I'd be happy to share."

"It's best for people to keep what they are thinking to themselves," he glares at me, "especially you."

"Oh, but that's boring~" I say coyly, that particular tone being intentional. I don't know why I'm doing this but something is compelling me to take the Mickey out of him, and it seems copying Haruno-san's tone works well.

"Be quiet for a moment," he says, a little heatedly.

"Fine, I'll say it," in spite of his plea, I continue while raising a finger. "You're trying to throw something away." I stop for a moment and wait for his reaction, but since he kept his impassive façade on, I decided to dig even deeper. "And what is that, I wonder?"

"Shut up."

I watch him intently as he keeps looking away from me. Our pace drastically slows, so it's obvious that the others will catch up to us soon. I observe him with deeply assessing eyes, watching every facial expression and body language, pulling out answers and deducing words he won't say.

His eyes narrow, his breathing comes fast, and the first beads of sweat make their appearance.

"It's your relationships."

He doesn't look shocked, but I can tell that my words hit him. He presses his lips together tightly, a chapped line slicing into his face, and his jaw tightens.

"You're sick of being the guy everyone expects you to be. However," I look away, glancing at the orange light reflected by the river below us as we reached the bridge, "you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings nor betray someone's expectations. So yeah, the easy way out is to keep quiet. Am I right?"

He stops and looks at me curiously, but says nothing. His piqued interest causes him to scrunch up his face even more as he glares at me and beyond my very soul. I look away.

"If that was the case," his voice is hoarse and comes between heavy breaths, "then why do you think I went with Liberal Arts?"

I happened to ask that myself as well.

"Ha. I think it's ironic too," I take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye. I offer him a shrug, "But what can I do? I was born to be ironic."

Another bout of silence.

He jerks his chin forward and takes a light jog. I follow behind him and hear a quiet murmur.

"You really are impressive."

"So it's the liberal arts then?"

"You're smart, right?" He speeds up faster, his sneakers scratching on the rough ground with a crack, and he shouts with a mocking smile, "Figure it out!"

"I'm deductive, not psychic," I spit back as I struggle to follow.

A few moments pass and we just stride side by side.

"Hikigaya." The sudden calling of my name causes me to look at him. His eyes seem to carry an overt amount of baggage that I'm sure he'd be fined heavily at customs. "Do you know what the right thing is? What are the qualifications of a correct decision?" he blurted out, with a melancholic face.

"Why are you asking me…?" I ask, since that's all I could respond with.

I'm flabbergasted.

"I always wanted to do the right thing," he answers, "anything that would have positive effects on everyone involved. But now I don't think this world has anything positive to offer without dosing out negativity in response." He looks at me and smiles, one that seems to have a deeper meaning attached to it. "I'm hating myself because of that."

"It's stupid to hate yourself for something as natural as world order."

"But that's how self-hatred works, isn't it?" he asks, looking away, "I'm sad, I'm bitter, but I can't really find any outlet other than myself to direct all of these negative emotions on. So, here I am."

Hearing his words, I find myself realizing something. Even this guy, the perfect one, can hate himself. And it's not that I'm shocked at this realization, rather I'm shocked that he actually admitted it - to me, of all people!

What a sorry existence. To live for nothing but to fulfil expectations, until the expectations burn you out with nothing to show but a reflection of what those expectations want you to be.

It's a terrible thought. How expectations change people so easily.

"You know what, Hikigaya," he starts again as he turns his face towards me, pulling me out of my thoughts. Instantly, I feel a coldness that not even I, one who spent so much time with the Ice Queen, can withstand.. His eyes have suddenly become like unyielding centers of supermassive black holes. And somehow, much to my confusion, I know what he is about to say. "I hate you too."

"Okay."

It's almost funny how he instantly stops and looks at me with eyes as wide as my Mom's favorite saucers. The black holes are gone, replaced by two large blinking orbs.

"And you don't care?"

"Back then, maybe I would have" I smirk. "But now I really can't bring myself to care. I've come to realize as of late that I was always just a waste of oxygen. So I don't really give a damn whether you hate me or not," I sigh, but not loud enough to look like I'm whining. I look at him firmly and smile, "After all, everyone hates me."

"That's just you being harsh on yourself," he frowns. "People can be kinder than you expect," he stops and looks at me, as if trying to get something nonverbal through, "just give them a chance."

"But I'm not really a big fan of people," I lie. I love Komachi, for one. "And besides, I prefer it this way."

"Don't you think that's a bit sad?"

"Oh," I snort. "I can think of sadder things than that."

"Life isn't a contest of seeing who has a sadder backstory, Hikitani."

"You'd be surprised," I stop, feeling the brutal teeth of exhaustion nipping at my legs. He looks back at me, realizing that he's going off alone and raises a brow.

"We should get going."

"Nah, I can't run anymore," I wave him off, tapping at my legs. Then I snort again. "And besides, I already got what I wanted."

Whatever this guy is thinking is impossible to tell. He holds the same blank expression for what may have been a millennia and then he nods and turns his face away.

Without another word, Hayama starts down the road ahead again, kicking up dust with his feet. I watch as his brisk walk turns into a light jog, then into a sprint before finally picking up his pace to a fast run.

And then he is gone.

I slump my shoulders and walk ahead. The other runners pass by me as well as Totsuka and his pals, so I nod at them with sincere gratitude. Totsuka offers to accompany my pity party, but I refuse; as much as I want to have him with me on this path, lit up with the romantic rays of the afternoon sun, I don't want to ruin his entire experience of this event. He's an athlete after all, so of course this is a big deal for him.

I walk for another half hour until I reach the finish line. As expected, no one's left there but me.

The awarding ceremony is done too by the time I get to the square.

 **~※~**

"Oh... so Hayato's picking the Liberal Arts."

"Uh huh. That's the feeling we got, at least."

Along with Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, we walk to the venue of the after party. Miura is with us too, since we had to inform her about the conclusion of the request. For the most part, I ended up telling my clubmates about how Hayama is most likely 'not' picking the Sciences. Though, as far as what his reactions conveyed to me, I can safely assume that I guessed it right. But still, I did not take the higher risk of saying that I'm certain about it — so I chose the easier route.

Yuigahama is currently talking with Miura about something I cannot place myself to care about. Yukinoshita's surprisingly involved too, currently ranting a spiel about how Miura should think of her future more properly. I tune them out, backing away slowly so they won't notice.

The sunset today is gray, reminding me of today's sunrise and even yesterday's sunset. Since it's a little bit darker than usual, the streetlights have been lit up earlier too. The air feels chilly, my cheeks feel numb and my breath expels in puffs. I look up at the steely gray sky again... it just feels dead. It seems sad too, that two nice colors like black and white would interact and the result is the muddied color shown.

"Ahh, Hikio too."

"What?"

The sudden voicing of my oh-so-not-really-nickname prompts me to look up with a dumbfounded expression on my face. Miura is looking at me with her neck craned and her body facing forward. Her usual bored expression is gone as she glares at me with her signature fiery gaze. Wait, did I do something wrong without noticing...?

"Yumiko's thanking you, Hikki," Yuigahama sighs and looks back and forth between me and Miura. For a brief moment, I think to myself as to why she would do that. _What in the hell would Miura thank me for? I didn't do anything—_

"Ah," I let out a stupid sound as I finally remember. The request, right. Silly me. "Alright."

Miura doesn't say anything else to me and just look away. She looks at Yukinoshita and slightly bows her head, locks of gold falling down elegantly on her cheeks.

"Also... Yukinoshita-san," she starts again, prompting Yukinoshita to stare at her, wide-eyed, "sorry."

I smile a little, this scene doesn't particularly surprise me for some stupid reasons. So I glance back, looking at the gray sky as it makes shadows drip down on Chiba's tightly knitted streets.

"Why don't you come too?" Miura offers to Yukinoshita who just nods in reply.

"...I suppose so. Just for a little while then."

After that, Yuigahama pipes in and involves Miura in a lively chat once again. I raise a brow as I notice Yukinoshita slowly backing away from the two of them, quiet — like a ninja. She ends up walking beside me, her bag dangling lifelessly in her arm. Then she looks at me with a face that wants to silently ask for something.

 _Here we go_ , I think with a sigh.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," she looks away, her breath visible with every exhale. Her hair sways as a particularly strong breeze blows upon us. She sighs and firmly looks at me, "I just need to speak with you."

It's odd, yes. Yukinoshita wants to speak with me. Yukinoshita, of all people. Should I pack up now? Is this the end of the world? Something serious has to be going on for her to actually want to have a conversation with me. Without the other two girls in front of us hearing, to boot.

While Yukinoshita chooses to recompose herself by staying silent for a moment, I begin to remember the mistake I made earlier before we hit the path to the after-party venue.

 **~※~**

It was when I met the three of them outside the school building after I reached the finish line of the marathon. It appeared that they were looking for me, since it was about half an hour after the marathon ended and I still hadn't shown up.

"Oh hey," I raised a hand as I saw them. Sweat was trickling down my forehead and I was sure I didn't look really good.

Yuigahama was the first to see me and ran to my direction. "Hikki!" she shouted, her 'boing-boings' bouncing with each step. "Where'd you go? The marathon ended, like, a year ago!"

"Yuigahama-san," Yukinoshita piped in. "We can't blame him if those rotten eyes of his caused him to run the marathon in the opposite direction."

"Running's not that easy, you know," I sighed as Yuigahama laughed while patting Yukinoshita's shoulders lightly, saying something like, 'That's so funny, Yukinon!', then I added, "and besides, it seems like they made you retire," I smirked as she flushed, "like you're one to talk."

"How'd you know that Yukinon retired?" Yuigahama, who stopped laughing, asked me with a confused look on her face.

I swallowed hard. Truth be told, I had no explanation to give her other than those memories I have of that 'dream'. It was scary, how I frequently ended up blurting things out regarding that particular matter. It was not like I believe full well that I could rely on those memories, they just pop out when a similar occasion occurred. But what was even scarier is the fact that those memories somehow align with what happens in reality.

"I guessed," I said nonchalantly as I looked at Miura. I needed to divert this topic before I looked suspicious. Miura looked at me with a jerk as if noticing my stare. She raised a brow and scowled at me. "Is it okay for you to walk with us on the way to the party?"

"Hah?" her scowl deepened. "Why should I?"

"So we could tell you what we came up with about your request." I looked at the other two girls and saw them gaping at me. I mouthed, 'I'll explain later' and looked at Miura again. "Is that okay with you?"

Miura looked surprised for some other reason. In confusion, I raised a brow.

She cleared her throat. "That's fine by me. Though..." she trails off and looked at me sharply, "how'd you know that there was a party?"

I almost wanted to kick myself as soon as I heard that. Stop, just stop with this nonsense, Hachiman! Why do you always know things you shouldn't? Couldn't you just shut up and make things flow naturally?

"Hayama," I suddenly blurted out his name as a distraction. Then an idea struck me. "He told me about the party during the marathon..."

Let's just hope they'd buy that.

The three of them nodded in unison after they heard my explanation. Yuigahama was so happy that the three of us were attending, so she didn't question me any further, Miura didn't really care and walked off with Yuigahama. Yukinoshita, on the other hand...

She looked dubious.

 **~※~**

"What are you trying to accomplish by attending this party?" Yukinoshita whispers, and I wince. The doubtful look on her face from earlier seems to have multiplied tenfold as she scrutinizes me, trying to pull out answers my mouth can't give.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my face feeling stiff but still managing to make a smile. "Am I really not allowed to attend parties—?"

"Cut it out," she cuts me off with a hiss. "Stop all of this, Hikigaya-kun. You know, for the unfortunate long time that I have known you, I have come to realize that you are not a man of parties." She narrows her eyes and glares at me with that ever so cold gaze of hers, "I know there is something you're not telling us."

How can I possibly tell you something that even I can't understand? That's what I want to shout straight at her face... but there's no way I'd do that.

Instead, I keep a smile plastered on my face. I'm probably acting like Hayama a little too much now, but I can't really bring myself to care at this point. I need to get out of this without raising any more suspicion.

"You make it sound like I'm having some weird gambit going on," I whisper back, glancing at the other two a few steps ahead of us.

Yukinoshita looks at them too and, after making sure that they won't overhear us, she asks, "Are you not?"

My face crumbles into something that shows utter defeat and I raise my hands as a sign of surrender. _I can't really make out my way with this woman unscathed, can I?_

"Alright," I sigh. "You got me."

She keeps silent. I know tensing against the shaking of my limbs is useless but I do it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments what I know I cannot. I need to drink in the silence to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf me. This kind of thick silence from her would normally chill me, but right now it works in my favor.

Then, as if wanting to disrupt that comfort I'm getting from drowning in silence, she speaks up, "Should I be worried?"

Her tone is definitely worried, that much is obvious. What surprises me though is the fact that I misunderstood her intentions from speaking to me. At first, I thought she was only being doubtful of my actions as usual. What I didn't expect, however, was the possibility that she might actually be worried. A wave of guilt washes over me. No matter how worried she becomes, I can't really tell her what's going on inside my head.

She will never understand.

"There's no need for you to be worried," I look away, glancing at the road before us. I can't bring myself to look at her, as I'm worried that my will would crumble and I'd blurt out things I would regret again. "Yes, I'm trying to do something. But it's not like I want to do it, I need to do it," I sigh, "it bothers me, it bothers me a lot. But the only way I could think to make it stop bothering me is to attend this party." I take a deep breath and steel myself to look at her. She looks back at me, worry and confusion painted in her eyes, and I mentally pat my own shoulder for not breaking down. "I hope you'd understand."

She nods thoughtfully and looks away.

"Very well..." she says rather uncertainly, then looks at me again. "You... you can talk to me about it... if you want."

"No." I say instantly, and she jerks back in a mixture of shock and pain. She looks at me as if I just drop kicked her and I smirk. "No, I mean it's not a matter of whether I trust you or not," I resisted the urge to say 'I trust you' and added, "It's just complicated."

"I see..." she sighs in relief and moves on forward, probably in an attempt to catch up to the other girls.

However, the dejected look that flashed on her face for a second didn't go unnoticed.

The familiar view of the pub reaches my eyes, a couple of meters away. Then, as I watch Yukinoshita's back slowly move away from me, an idea comes up to me.

"On second thought, I guess I'll tell you," I say to her and she looks back, her skirt fluttering as she spins. "And Yuigahama too, while I'm at it."

"Tell us then." That commanding voice of hers almost makes me laugh as the usual fierceness is mismatched by a small smile on her face.

"After this party," I brush past her and walk forward, reaching for the door and opening it for her. "I'll walk you home... then I will tell you everything."

The blush on her face still lingers in my head as I close the door behind us.

 **~※~**

Feeling the tiny fangs of dreariness sinking into my chest, I watch as the party unfolds before my eyes. It is kind of stupid, really; it feels more like Hayama's victory party than the marathon's after-party. And that's the sole reason why I'm a bit irritated — I didn't want to go out of my way just to be a congratulatory element for that bastard.

I sit idly beside the glass panes, a couple of meters away from the annoying crowd. My eyes are kept outside as I watch everything that comes into view. I may look like a creep right now, but I don't care. I need to do this. I need to keep watch.

The early evening lull has come to the streets, filled with the frenetic commuters and vibrant party seekers. The bars and clubs were still mostly shuttered, the only visible signs of life appear at cafe terraces that teemed with diners chatting and relaxing after a busy day.

One particular guy wearing a hoodie passes by and I narrow my eyes at him, he flinches back before glaring at me. I raise a brow and he does too. I know he may just be a random passerby, but I can't help but worry about suspicious looking people tonight. He seems pissed by my actions and mouthed 'fuck you' to me.

I smile and raise my middle finger at him.

Then he's gone. What a nice fellow.

I look back to the boisterous folks behind me and see everyone still frolicking around. For some unknown reason, Zaimokuza's here. He is currently demonstrating the proper etiquette for eating chicken-legs like a hog. Tobe laughs at his antics, being the idiot he is, while half of the girls glare at him and the other half looks away in disgust. I wish I had a camera. What a show.

"You seem distracted."

A sudden voice pulls me out of my inner world and I finally notice Hayama leaning on the wall, offering me a glass of something. I took it with a nod and sniff. Ginger ale, it seems.

"I'm always distracted," I say without glancing at him. That is the truth though, I know that I can get really distracted. But what can I do? You can't just give me those kind of 'memories' and expect me to calmly sit around, right? Not to mention how I've been getting more anxious as time ticked by. I may be a pessimist (or a realist), but that doesn't mean that I'm immune to feeling this sense of dread. I raise my brow and ask him, "What do you want?"

"Ah nothing..." he stops and looks outside. Instinctively, I look away and follow his line of sight. The sun dips lower on the horizon until the outside buildings look like black statues. Hayama clears his throat and offers a brief glance at me. "Yumiko told me, you know?"

"Told you what?"

He smirks at me with the kind of expression that seeks to tell me something nonverbally.

 _I didn't tell you anything_ , that's what he is saying.

I stand up from my seat and head towards the comfort room, not giving him the slightest bit of a response. The smell of the food being served reaches my nose and I instinctively look in its direction. A whole round of roasted chicken comes into view, all hot and piping and I suddenly find my mouth watering in anticipation.

Yuigahama squeals as she witnesses the magnificence unfold in front of her, screaming, "Look Yukinon, look! The chicken's super whole roasted!"

Yukinoshita can only smile at her like a doting mother does at the sight of her child getting excited about something, "I can see that, Yuigahama-san," she says as she pries Yuigahama's arms from her shoulders.

Looking elsewhere, my point of view reaches a bathroom door with someone just beside it.

An old man is standing there, wearing a suit so formal he can almost pass for a...

—manager.

"Hello," he says with a wave, leaning on the wall besides the bathroom door, "seems like you are with your friends this time. That's nice."

"Uh huh," I respond with a smile, "as much as I hate being within a meter radius of the majority of them, seems like it."

He laughs a little and looks at me with concern in his eyes, "Do you feel well now?"

"Yeah..." I ponder about bowing for a moment, but I end up doing it anyway. "I managed to grapple back the fever. Thank you so much again for all the help last night," I added with my head facing the tiled floor.

His footsteps echo as he gets closer to me, "That is quite alright," he pats my shoulder.

I look up, but alas, he's already gone.

 **~※~**

Yukinoshita and I left the party together in accordance to my request.

The night has long fallen and the cold is biting rather harsher than before. Yukinoshita has her scarf bundled around her neck as I have done with mine.. The walk altogether is completely silent, awkward even.

Only for her, I guess.

As for me, I'm just scared.

I can't breathe.

It's chilling — I didn't put much thought into the purpose of this walk and asking her altogether, especially since I've had too many things going on inside my head. But now that I'm just mere moments away from the hellish climax of yesterday's nightmare, fear manages to creep within me.

"So uh..." I hear Yukinoshita mumble out. I shake my head to get the bad thoughts away, which feels like a futile act by the way, and then look at her. "You know the pub's manager?"

"Oh," I let out with a dumbfounded sound. "We don't really 'know' each other that well. Just acquaintances."

"I see."

The sky has gone completely dark and the city lights blend in with the myriad of stars above. My inner fear intensifies, as if the familiar lighting pierced through my subconscious in order to nurture it.

And suddenly, I'm engulfed with the desperate need to run.

Running seems like the best option. If running means that I can go home safely without either of us getting hurt, if running means that I won't see another replay of what has been engraved inside the recesses of my mind, if running means that I won't see someone die tonight—

Then I would take Yukinoshita by the hand and run to the goddamn end of the world.

But I don't, instead I look back. Looking back is not a bad thing to do, right?

Nothing, nothing behind us. Just an empty road filled with the dim lighting of the streetlamps.

No one is dead. No murderers. No goddamn guns.

I stop and stare at the long-haired girl in front of me, with the city sounds muted by a godlike silence that falls between us, getting wider and wider until it occupies the whole available space. Gaseous and thin, the silence resounds and resonates.

Then I laugh.

I laugh because this is not what I have been expecting all day, and it is just so simple, so strange and so stupid that I have to laugh, for it is all I can do at the moment.

Yukinoshita looks at me as if I have gone totally crazy. Her eyes are glowing orbs in the dark; they're dim and watery and so happy, yet so sad. The confusion in her eyes are ever so visible that I can't stop myself from sniggering my ass out.

After a few more moments, my laughter subsides.

"What in the world has gotten into you—?"

"You know what, Yukinoshita?" I cut her off moving closer, a wide grin appearing on my face. "I can't believe I actually worried over bullshit! Ha, I've been so stupid! Oh my god that was just a dream, you won't die... I won't die... that was just a—"

A sudden sound reaches my ears.

My voice gets stuck in my throat.

A sound — the sound of metal sliding against metal in a quick, swift motion..

The sound of a gun's safety being turned off and prepared to fire.

My body moves on instinct. Without looking behind, I grasp Yukinoshita's shoulders, put all of my force in one swift motion—

—and I push her away.

Then the sound of death reverberates through the streets.

A gunshot.

It is, admittedly, difficult to go through the motions when a disruption enters your life that does not immediately settle down. The world is shifts and getting the right footing is not always as easy as it seems.

I feel like I am going to fall and that is such a frightening prospect as I've always prided myself on being sure footed and steady. However, it is easy to falter when the world itself stops making sense.

So I fall.

My face hits the rock-hard pavement, a shot of pain stinging my nose in the process. Heat creeps up in the area close to my stomach and, out of curiosity, I look down.

Dark red blood makes its way out of my body. It oozes between the spaces of my fingers as I cover my wound with a shaky hand. My vision becomes blurry as my school uniform turns darker until all I can see is the scarlet blood that once flowed through my veins.

Each drop of blood rapidly takes away the life of me, leaving me pale and weak, despite trying to defy death.

I wonder if she felt the same way, I find myself asking.

It's at the same moment that I realize how stupid I have become. Fate, it seems, is not as cruel s I thought; it gave me a warning, a foreknowledge of what would happen — but I did nothing.

I sat around and doubted it.

I treated it as a goddamn dream.

So here I am, dying horribly, dying without dignity, dying on my belly with my mouth full of dust and my heart full of regret and empty apologies.

Will I be remembered if I die here? Will dying will be worth it? Is any of this even worth it at all?

To look back at your mistakes and meet them with an understanding, to open your eyes and realize that you are nothing but what fate has molded you into, those are notions I can't quite accept.

The sound of ringing footsteps reach my numbing ears. A man is running.

A gun.

A bonnet.

If I were to die here, at this guy's hand, I sure would regret a whole lot of things.

 _Oh wow_ , I just realize the thought, _I really am going to die here._

That should have been a scarier prospect.

I look up and see Yukinoshita, tears streaming down her eyes and grief painted on her face.

Regardless of her feelings, she's alive and breathing.

That much is enough.

I offer her a simple smile.

"At least... I saved... you..."

Then I close my eyes and die.

* * *

 **Notes: Expect the next chapter published next week. Yes, I said it. I fucking gave myself a deadline. Anyway, I hope this extra long chapter compensates for the long wait. And as always, thanks for reading. (Oh yeah, I will also answer some of the previous reviews on the next publish, so doncha worry folks, this brat's not ignoring ya.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Kneel before me. I made it a day before the deadline.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer**

* * *

 _"This written work is nothing but a fanfiction, and in no way do the author intend to claim any rights about the source materials used... and uh— hey, Hikki, why am I doing this again?"_

 _"It's a club request, Yuigahama."_

 _"But why me...? Sure Yukinon can do this instead, right?"_

 _"Oh yeah? That damn Cheekygaya asked us to make a snippet for the disclaimer. Look, if we let Yukinoshita do it, it'll only sound like that woman talking on visual novel disclaimers."_

 _"For once, I will agree with him. Among us three, you're the only one best suited for this, Yuigahama-san."_

 _"B-but Yukinon... ah! Iroha-chan! Iroha-chan can do it, yeah?"_

 _"Yes, perhaps she—"_

 _"One thing, Cheekygaya doesn't really give a damn about Isshiki."_

 _"He what!? Uwaa... this Cheeky guy is so troublesome."_

 _"Oi, don't let him hear you saying that. As mentally unstable as he is, he might decide to kill you on the next chapter."_

 _"You don't want to suffer the same fate as me, do you, Yuigahama-san?"_

 _"Of course I don't! Getting shot by the head looks so painfull after all..."_

 _"Oho? Who says a thing about being shot? That too already happened to me, you know? Don't you think it'll be a bit redundant if he writes the same death again?"_

 _"Hikki... what in the world are you—"_

 _"...something like slipping on the stairs and getting stabbed by an umbrella straight in the neck—"_

 _"Stop! STOP! DON'T GIVE HIM IDEAS!"_

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

The world is in a spinning wheel when I regain my consciousness. Everything is circling in a nonstop fashion — exactly like a carousel set on max speed, leaving my eyes spinning endlessly inside my head.

It feels like the world is continuously falling, and I'm going down alongside it without any resistance at all. A ravaging vacuum of nothingness is sucking my whole existence in, pressing my whole body flat and suffocating me. I try to breath in, out, and again, but I'm not too sure if my breaths are even reaching my lungs.

Who knows? I could be dead. After all, dead people can't breathe.

Connecting the puzzle-pieces of what happened together took such long time. Minutes, perhaps. Maybe even hours. Does the rules of time even apply to where I am now? Oh, I don't even know.

With nothing else to think about, I begin to trace my steps back.

There has been a point in time when I have been shot by a gun. Yes, that much is clear to me — I can at least remember that part. The feeling of something forcing its way on your skin, tearing apart your flesh and piercing your bone. Then, the feeling of detachment that will come shortly afterwards, like some supernatural entity is pulling your soul out of your body.

What's worse is that brief moment of rationalization, when your mind is already numbing but your head still insists on working. You keep hearing this, you keep seeing that, you feel this, you taste that, you could even smell.

Everything — every single thing is very clear to you. You feel the blood flowing, you see the blood flowing, you smell the blood flowing—

Hell, you could even hear the blood flowing if you listen closely.

Blood here. Blood there. Blood on fucking everywhere.

But regardless of all that, there is only one thing inside your head

 _"I don't want to die."_

It had been my own fault, my own mistake and my own stupidity that led me to that moment. Now, looking back over the hazy details, I can say for sure that it's true.

I know that someone was trying to get Yukinoshita dead. I know the exact details, I even know where and when.

But why did I do?

Nothing.

I hadn't done a single thing. There are a lot of clues, so much proofs that something was about to happen, and despite having given an ample amount of time to make a plan to counteract the problem—

I sat around and doubted all of it instead.

Doubting is a second nature of humans, we are all born as naturally distrusting creatures — it may be a cliché after all, but it's the way things are. To accept things, on the other hand — to trust something, is of another matter. Not to mention that the **thing** I was supposed to believe is something I couldn't fully put my trust on.

If I will choose to be honest here for a moment, to place myself on a non-emotional and logical standpoint, I will be able to see things clearly — I will be able to see who is truly at fault to all those things that had happened to me.

It's not myself alone.

Yes, I admitted that I am to blame as well.

But am I really the only one who bears responsibility to all this mishap?

The answer is apparent, but I will choose to keep it to myself.

After all, blaming a dying person for simply being in a dying state is just too much. The cause of the problem is the person in danger, that is a fact, but it's also true that the person who chose to be involved is the cause — not of the same problem, but of another one entirely.

Choosing to be involved will make a new problem itself.

That fact is clear as crystal to me.

If someone was trying to kill a person I don't really have a deeper connection with, the most logical response is to turn my back and keep silent. And only unless it's my family that is on danger will I take action. Meddling with other people's troubles will get you involved, after all.

And meddling with a case of murder will get you killed.

However, there is the fact that I am painfully stupid.

And there's also the fact that I have a knack for getting involved with things I don't want to. It's the cruel curse set on the one named Hikigaya Hachiman; that on and on, whether he likes it or not, he gets associated with troublesome kinds of things.

And thus, my predicament.

How unfortunate.

But taking a quick reality check, you can see that there is no longer any point in mulling over that now, because then again, I have already meddled, and therefore, am also already involved. And it's not like Yukinoshita is someone I could possibly just let to die.

I saved her, after all. I literally took a bullet for her sake...

Hang on a sec.

Come to think of it.

A bullet shot through my stomach, piercing a gaping hole in the same size as a coin — blood flowed out of the wound, followed by the blurring of my vision.

Basically, I was shot by a gun.

Unless I'm the man of steel, I should be dead now.

Right?

Wierd. It feels like I have already went through this train of thought before. The confusion — the odd questions if whether you're still alive or not.

It is exactly the same as that time.

I remember the incessant patting of the rain on my head all the way down to my toes. The splashing sound responding to each step. The pounding inside my chest. The blood going up my head, overflowing.

The panic.

The very same moment when I rushed to that place after waking up in my room. The very same moment when I thought I just died, while it turned out to be the opposite. It's that time, as far as my memories serve me, when the **first** murder took place.

January eleven. After the party, Yukinoshita asked me to walk her home. A couple of minutes later, a man wearing a bonnet came out on a deserted street and shot her dead. Then, I got ran over by a truck after stupidly chasing after the murderer.

That's how it actually went, isn't it?

The **original** eleventh of January.

I have no other way to describe it, since I am just as confused, so for now, let's say that really was not a dream — but a memory.

Knowing myself, would come to accept it sooner or later though, so let's just stop playing dumb. After all, trying to act like I don't know a thing rewarded me a bullet wound to my stomach.

Heh.

To think that Komachi was actually right at that point.

Anyway, back to the topic. My memory is a bit hazy when I chased after the murderer, but I can say for sure that I saw a truck coming to my direction before I found myself waking up in my room.

I am well past my chuuni-phase, but let's consider this one for a moment.

It's a stupid idea, but if I really evaded that truck by being in my room in an instant — does that mean I teleported?

But how would that explain the fact that I found myself waking up on January ten — the day yesterday?

Time travel, perhaps?

Heh.

To think that I'm actually considering this theory.

Note to self: Start avoiding that damn Zaimokuza for good.

Anyway, now that I'm thinking about the same thing, that means I'm currently in the same situation, right? Taking a few steps back, I can see myself pushing Yukinoshita away and taking a bullet that was meant for her.

 _So then, given that I apply the same explanation from earlier to my current situation... does that mean...?_

Only one way to make sure.

I open my eyes.

The first thing that flies into my eyes as they blink open is an artificial sense of dazzling white. Beyond the light, a wide bland ceiling spreads before me with a ceiling fan attached to it, spinning like a propeller.

Something soft is pressed on my head all the way down to my nape, bearing the same scent of the shampoo I always use.

It's my pillow.

And this place—

Is none other than my room.

"Oh well. With this much proof, there's no way I'd still be doubting it..."

The truth came as a storm, like a swarm of spears being thrown by a hundred spartan straight at my direction, leaving not only my physical existence, but my very soul, utterly destroyed.

Well, I may be using too much flowery descriptions, but I am, of course, talking about my realization.

"Uh huh. So that kind of thing really happens, huh?"

Ripping the blanket off my body, I push myself up and lean my back against the headboard of my bed. My phone sits idly above the small table on my right, and I stretch my arm to pick it up.

When the screen lights up, a not-so-surprising fact says hello.

It's the date and time blinking on my phone.

 **Thursday, January ten 5:15 PM**

Just to make sure, I pull the hem of my shirt up to look at my stomach. The wound I had when I got shot earlier is nowhere to be seen. Raising my hand, I trace the contours of my left cheekbone with my fingers.

The bruise and the bandage Yukinoshita used to cover it up—

Those too, are gone as well.

"A time loop, as what it seems..."

A looping phenomena where the subject goes back in time under specific circumstances.

Hit by a truck.

Shot by a gun.

In my case, the common factor is obviously **dying**.

It's definitely stupid, a very Zaimokuza-ish idea that only a pathetic writer wannabe would try to rip-off from.

How original.

Insulting the premise aside, maybe I should start to analyze what kind of situation I am in now. Let's assume the fact that I really have the ability to loop back in time by... well, dying — what then?

There are a lot of questions inside my head.

Like—

 _Why do I have this ability? Why am I getting sent back to this specific moment when I should be dead? What is the reason?_

One answer stood out most.

"Is it because of Yukinoshita...?"

Assuming that someone is pulling the strings behind this supernatural phenomena, what could be their reason for going as far as making me loop all the way back?

In the end, is all this only about saving Yukinoshita Yukino?

But why me? Why can't it be someone else?

Like Hayama, for example. I'm certain he would be more than willing to save her. Hell, he would probably do it even if it isn't Yukinoshita that is on grave danger.

It's him, not me, who is undoubtedly the nice guy.

And it's not like he is the only one. With the guarantee of being sent back to restart everytime you fail, anyone will not hesitate to do so.

So why me? Anyone else would have sacrificed—

Oh.

Hold on.

No.

Sacrifice?

No, not anyone.

 _"You're always like this, sacrificing yourself, playing the martyr..."_

Someone's words echo inside my head. I'm not too sure as to whom they came from, but I feel like I know that person just like how that person knows me.

The act of self-sacrifice. Yes, that idea has never been a stranger to me. But I wouldn't go as far as to classify my act of self-sacrifice as a good deed, nor a heroic one. I do it, because I'm the only one who can.

 _You see, I'm like, super unreliable. If faced by a tough task, I will sorta, choose somethin' totes easy, y'know? Kinda somethin' like that. Super totally._

Being unreliable aside, it just happens that the easy way out that I always come up is to use myself as a scapegoat. So it has never been for the other people involved, it's mostly just self-satisfaction in my part.

Furthermore, unlike the others, I don't have to worry about losing something. Because after all, I really don't have that much to worry about losing to begin with.

My ideas of self-sacrifice — perhaps that is the reason why.

"Throwing me into this mess for not caring enough about myself... aren't you being a little too harsh, Rom-Com gods?"

Moving on.

Now that I have a hunch as to why this is happening, maybe it's about time that I analyze just what the hell this time-looping thing is all about.

More seriously though, can I consider this phenomena as time travel at all? I mean, it's not like I'm physically traveling back through time, it's more like my memory transcends and goes back to my past self.

Proof?

Including now, I had already went back twice. On both cases, all of my physical injuries disappeared the moment I woke up.

For example, I should have a bullet wound on my stomach for being shot by a gun, but now, I don't even have a scar.

In short, my body reverts back to its initial state a day before. Putting it on gaming terms, it's more like my life has a designated SAVE POINT, where I go back whenever I encounter a GAME OVER.

I'm quite familiar with how time slips and time travel works since I oftentimes encounter this particular genre in my voyages of manga and light novel reading.

But to think that I would actually be placed to a similar situation...

Maybe my teenage life is more wrong than I expected.

"It's still pretty unbelievable, but if you count the time traveling thing on the equation, then the whole thing starts to make a little sense..."

Looking back, I already died two times.

The first one was probably when I got ran over by a truck when I chased after the murderer. The second one is just recently, when I covered Yukinoshita from the bullet.

It's a bit immoral of myself to say, but I think the second death is more favorable than the first one. At least in the latter, only one of us died.

But still, dying two times in a row is just too much. Sure, I lived my past seventeen years of life peacefully. The only mortal danger I have faced so far was when I got hit by a car while trying to save Yuigahama's dog.

Well, that would be the only one if I exclude Hiratsuka-sensei's countless physical assaults.

Hoh?

Never did I thought that there is still someone far more dangerous than an unmarried Modern Japanese instructor.

"...alright, let's take a breather for a moment."

Stretching my back, I stand up from my bed and walk straight to the window. I press both my hands on the handle and push the glass-panel up. Cool breeze comes in from the window, and I savor the sensation for a moment, letting the cold wind blow as it caresses my cheeks and ruffles my hair.

It's unbelievable that I made it this far. That I died and went back in time for two fucking times. But really, I just want to stop on questioning everything about it. Fictional characters never count the chances knocking on their doors, after all.

They just kneel down and thank the author for providing them.

This is all too much to take in, with all this time looping and dying crap. I mean who can say that all of this vivid replays are real? What if I'm already dead and all of this is just an illusion?

I can't say. I can't understand how things work with myself sometimes.

But still, it's not like I have any choice at all. Yukinoshita's life is hanging up on this. There is no way I can just let that woman die. Partly because after all those times we spent as clubmates, I have grown quite a bit of attachment towards the person.

And partly because after having a foreknowledge about her life being in danger, doing nothing and letting her die would be like killing her secondhandedly.

Spare me the guilt, will you?

I have a very little idea as to why I have been thrown into this time looping scenario, but because of it, I'm fortunate enough to have an idea of what is about to happen.

I know the path and mines to avoid.

Meaning, I can save Yukinoshita.

However, there's this one teeny tiny problem.

I don't know how.

Yes, granted that I have been given the chance to restart twice, but there is no guarantee that I will succeed now on the third time around. Perhaps there is a possibility that I could restart again, but I would like to avoid dying as much as possible.

After all, there is also no guarantee that I would be able to come back if I die at this point. Who knows? Maybe if I die this time, I'll be dead for good. One wrong move can lead to both me and Yukinoshita dying in the end, so I need to be careful on choosing my course of actions.

Sure, I have a definite advantage to have this foreknowledge. But foreknowledge will take me nowhere if I didn't take action. I have to do something. However, this something doesn't mean that I would jump head on and beat the crap out of that murderer. That won't do unless I'm a _flawed_ possessed by the _true demon_. [1]

I am, at most, is just a normal high school student who have been thrown into this inexplicable supernatural scenario against my will. I know nothing about karate or kung fu or ki wielding or whatever. Heck the only fight I have been so far is a pillow fight with Komachi.

Anyway, that murderer is armed with a gun, and there is no way I would be able to stay my ground if I try to stop him personally. Let's say for example that I really choose to do just that. I know where street we are going to meet him, and the approximate time. But who can say that he's not tailing us the whole time.

Oh right. Come to think of it, I somehow got the feeling that someone is following us on the first time. Was that him? If so, then that means I'm right. Facing him directly would be downright suicide. If he's watching, there is the possibility that he would assume that I know something if I try to do something directly.

And that, by itself, may ruin the whole balance of things.

"Just what the heck is this guy's motives, anyway...?"

Taking Yukinoshita's family status into consideration, the possibility of someone wanting her killed may be associated with the matters of their affairs since her family is running a quite respectable social standing.

But something isn't adding up here.

Rich people will hire professional assassins; if someone who has the money wants to kill someone, they will choose the safest option — hence, hire a professional who never leaves any trace.

But basing on the actions of what that guy had shown, I can say for sure that he is anything but professional. Think about it — he waits on a deserted street, shoots his target, then runs away.

That is not what a professional assasin would do.

Well, it's not like I know too much about the subject. But that is what Koro-sensei is for, right? I kinda learned some useful stuff from watching the anime, you know?

Anyway, now that the possibility of me facing a Russian hitman is ruled out, let's take some more guesses.

The murderer is hardly on the same height as me, so I'm considering the possibility of that killer being a teenager, or most likely — a student as well.

A Sobu High student, assuming that he really is a student, that is.

Proof?

Yukinoshita Yukino is an ice-cold bitch, that is reason enough. Let's be honest here, it's not that hard to hate a person like her. Sharp-tongued, overly confident and most of all, she's too perfect for her own good; top tier looks, outstanding marks, wealthy family, sophisticated upbringing— man, there is just too much to say about that woman that it's already annoying.

Making enemies at school is not a hard job for Yukinoshita.

Aside from her bad traits, there is also the undeniable fact that Yukinoshita is _charming_. Such charm that shakes the feelings of others can also arouse different kinds of negative emotions.

Hatred triggered by jealousy would be the probable cause for the girls, while the conversion of attraction to grudge after being turned down would be for the boys.

Given that I am assuming that the killer is a male, that means I'm dealing with a boy ordered around by a group of envious girls, or—

A rejected admirer?

Uwaa, I'm jumping into silly conclusions here. I'm not even sure whether that guy is a teenager or not. Who knows? He could even be a jeezer with the same height as me. After all, I'm a bit tall for my age. Without the slouch, of course.

Going further.

Directly stopping him would be suicide, so that's not an option.

I can't also tip the police about it since I don't have any physical evidence. Worst case scenario, if everything else fails and Yukinoshita dies, tipping them about a murder taking place without it even happening would qualify me as a prime suspect.

 _Hmm. So indirectly, huh..._

Ruining a theater play on the front stage would be very hard, since there is the possibility of the actors glossing over your unexpected entrance with an ad-lib. But that doesn't mean I can't mess things up in the backstage.

The best way to make a plan backfire is to ruin the preparation, after all.

Stop the bastard from killing Yukinoshita indirectly.

If you look at it closely, if he really is just a small fry murderer, there is no way he would be able to have the guts to attack her in public, much less on an area with very high security.

The perfect place that fits that description would be Yukinoshita's apartment complex. Of course, there is no guarantee that the killer would stop after failing on the first attempt, but for now, I would like to focus on helping Yukinoshita survive the cursed eleventh of January.

Anything past that will be a problem for tomorrow.

"Keep Yukinoshita safe until she reaches her apartment..."

Easy to say, but what could possibly—

"...oh."

 _A thing that can keep her safe from gun-armed killers, huh?_

A smile finds it's way on my lips. It's the kind of smile that bears both sinister and good intentions. An ironic smile.

"Oh well, I think I just thought of something good."

I close the window and head straight to my bed, throwing my body face first at the cushion afterwards.

Sleeping is for the best, so I'll try to get some.

After all, I need to get sufficient energy since I just planned to make a deal with a certain arch demon tomorrow.

Tossing the blankets over myself, I close my eyes.

The last thing in my head before I drift into nothingness is a question about all limousines being bulletproof.

* * *

 **Note: this chapter is just me trying to dive deep into Hachiman's logical thought processes. I'm really bad at analyzing things irl, so I'm worried that this analyzation will also come out as shitty. But I think I somehow pulled it through. Just let me know what you folks think in the reviews. Oh, and speaking of reviews, let's move on to responding!**

 **Mokkel, Ariaias, GigaProminence, Ruffes, Wicked. A, OsteoPoro, NPwall, Awesomerjr858, Eramis8, VernoSSS:** _Thank you very much!_

 **TheQuotable Patella:** _Nah, I'm the only person going insane here._

 **BlackPsych:** _I'll be honest with you. After rereading the chapter two for a gazillion time, I realized that I went a bit 'overboard' with Hachiman's emotional reaction. But since I want to be as consistent as possible, I'll just get on with it and change nothing. And besides, I think it's only natural to notice the importance of a person after seeing them die, no?_

 **Predator7** : _Technically, she 'died', though she's still alive._

 **AK-103:** _Oh well, I didn't really meant to write it that way. (maybe my life's just too tragic that even my writing is influenced by it?)_

 **Feeva** : _Thanks! I will work harder to make faster updates._

 **NoCatAllowed** : _Words can't describe how grateful I am to see you defending my waifu(lol)_

 **TheLaughingStalkieTalkie** : _yeah yeah yeah!_

 **Zeranvor** : _Man, you just gave a very wonderful idea. Thank you very much._

 **HarimaHige** : _With how the story is going, maybe you can already see what the pairing will be like. But then, there's also this indecisiveness of mine. Who knows? Maybe Hachiman will end up being paired with a tombstone *grin*_

 **Jam99chgo** : _Please bear with me! I would be willing to kill Yukino a million times if that's what you want! JK_

 **YearsLate** : _Oh man, thank you so much for pointing those out. I'll be careful with choosing the words next time. (oh, your review is also the reason why I did some edits in the first chapter, hope I pulled it well)_

 **RalphZiggy** : _Yeah, I'm a bastard *sniffs* I killed Yukino *sniffs* I killed Hikki *sniffs* and then..._ _*sniffs*_ _I'm planning to kill them again. But who the hell cares! Let's fucking kill everyone! (I'm kidding *grins*)_

 **jackpodante** : _I think Hachiman should be a lot more skeptical though, judging by the situation he is in._

 **Zathol** : _It's me. I'm the random guy who wants to shoot people._

 **Ryudai:** _Unless an Auror trespasses my room and uses Obliviate to alter my memories, there is no other way that I'd forget this story._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

Saving a person's life is no easy job.

Even more so if the one you're trying to save doesn't even have a clue that she is in danger.

It's the morning of January eleven — or should I say, the third morning of January eleven. I'm currently mounted on my bike on the way to school while doing a part two of all the thinking I have done last night. It may not be everything, but after analyzing my situation in roughly four thousand words, little by little, I am starting to understand.

Although there is this one little problem. When I woke up this morning, I realized that there is this matter that had been overlooked.

It's about warning Yukinoshita.

If she knows that something is about to happen, it will be easier for me to do the rest since she will be more careful.

But there are two problems.

One — is that she would probably not believe me and think of my warning as a joke, and two — is if she actually believe what I am about to say, she might act so wary she would even come out suspicious.

I don't really feel bad hiding this to her, since it would do well for her to never know. But I can't deny that there are advantages if she knows something.

"Haaaa..."

I shake my head.

 _Whatever. Having or not having advantage, I would do it either way, so there's no point lamenting about it if I'm not going to tell her anyway._

The school comes to view earlier than I expected, probably because I'm now back to my usual biking pace.

After locking my bike on the shed, I walk through the main entrance.

But as I am about to change into my indoor shoes, a vibration comes in my pocket, followed by the incessant ringing of a digital sound — then, the PreCure opening theme echoes over the entire hallway which has become quiet all of a sudden.

Each and every eyes are now all directed at me.

I clear my throat and stare back at them head on.

"What? Got a problem?"

They all shake their heads and look away.

I take one quick glance on my phone and answer, slipping my feet on my indoor shoes at the same time.

"Hello."

[Haro haro, Hikigaya-kun!]

"Hmm. Good morning, Yukinoshita-san."

The caller is no other than Yukinoshita Haruno.

[Oh? You're polite for a change today. Does that have anything to do with what you mailed me last night?]

For a change, she says. _Am I really that rude?_

Anyway, she says something about a message — and that, although surprisingly, was actually sent by yours truly early this morning.

"Yes. I'd like to meet you today, if possible."

[Of course it's possible! Onee-chan can always make time for you.]

"But I'm assuming you have lectures today, you sure it's okay?"

Courtesy. As much as I hate giving it to a person like her, I have no other choice but to do so.

After all, I'm about to ask for a favor, so the least I can do is to be polite.

[I can always skip classes for you, you know?]

"Eh?"

Heat creeps up in my face and nibbles at my ears.

[Ahaha! That's the Hikigaya-kun I know! I reckon you're blushing now, huh?]

Damn right I am. She's almost got me there.

"And here I am trying to be polite to you..."

[No one told you to try so hard though. Well unless of course...]

She stops, and I wonder for second if it's possible to hear someone making a devilish grin.

[...you're deliberately trying to get on my good graces.]

I'm not even surprised. It's a given that Haruno will always see past other people's intentions. After dealing with her for so long, I have come to realize that she's way better on reading between the lines than me.

But not being surprised doesn't mean that I'm not frightened. Yukinoshita Haruno is shrewd, manipulative and cunning. Someone, that not even I could possibly match.

Even so, it's obvious that she's quite fond of me, so even though she only sees me as an interesting subject, I can still use it for my own good. It will be like two leeches sucking blood from one another.

"I don't even need to try though, do I?"

[A cocky Hikigaya-kun, eh? Well that's fresh.]

"Will I be seeing you then?"

[Hmm. I'll come, since I'm dying to know what this favor is all about.]

"I'll tell you later. Thank you."

[You're always welcome. Though let me remind you...]

She lowers her voice on dangerous levels and whispers seductively,

[...your Onee-chan's services aren't free.]

Damn, that sounds way too erotic...

But taking it more seriously, I know that asking a favour out of her would mean owing her one. And mind you, I am well aware that owing someone like Yukinoshita Haruno means trouble. But who cares? I'm already in a very big trouble, so it doesn't cost me that much.

"I'm aware, Yukinoshita-san."

[Hearing you admitting that makes me all the more curious, really.]

"Isn't that a good thing for you?"

Upon hearing my remark, she lets out a very amused laugh.

[Right you are, it always is. See you later then, Hikigaya-kun.]

And with that, not even waiting for my response, she ends the call.

Feeling an odd presence, I glance behind and see a familiar hem of a labcoat before it disappears without a trace.

Looking ahead, my gaze meets the division of the hallway where the path divides into two. It's nothing but an architectural design of the building since no matter which direction you choose, it would still take the same amount of time for someone to reach their destination.

However, in my case, there will be a big difference as to which one I choose. Looking back on my memories of the second loop, I chose the left one and bumped with Yukinoshita afterwards. That means, assuming that the same thing will happen this time around, that means I will be forced to meet Yukinoshita if I choose the same path.

Realizing that, my feet inavertedly make their way on the right side.

I climb the stairs and check the time on my phone, raising a brow at the lack of blinking on the screen.

 _No sweet messages this time, I see._

Seeing the corner where I will be turning, I slide to walk a little on the middle to avoid bumping with someone on the other side. Luckily, I pass without having my face headbutted.

"Ah, good morning, Hikitani."

But my face must have looked like I have just been headbutted.

Hayama Hayato smiles with his usual annoying face in front of me, holding a stack of papers in his arms.

"On the way to the classroon?"

 _Where else would I go, Narnia?_

"Yeah," I raise a brow on the papers he's holding. "Errands?"

"A teacher asked me to take this to the faculty."

"Hmm. Won't be troubling you then."

I walk past him after nodding.

"Alright. See you in class."

His muffled footsteps echo on the tiled floor as he moves away.

That is when an idea struck me.

"Hayama."

He looks at me sharply with his head craned backwards.

"Got a moment?"

The usually non-existent wrinkles on his face show as he scrunches up his nose like he just swallowed a bitter pill.

 _Not even trying to hide your dissatisfaction, eh?_

I sigh, "Don't fret. It's not about your damn career choice."

"I hope so..."

He says while sighing as well after shaking his head,

"Anyway, I got to deliver this to the faculty office first. You'll have to come along if you want to talk."

I nod and follow as he starts to walk.

"If it's not that private, can't we just talk about it here? We don't really have that much time before classes start."

We reach the particular corridor where the crowd of students thinned considerably. "Alright." Taking that opportunity, I lean forward and ask in a low voice,

"Have you ever recieved a death threat before?"

He deadpans after hearing that,

"Is that a joke or a serious question?"

"What do you think?"

He looks at me inently as if searching for assurance.

Then, he lower his eyes as if saying he has given up.

"I'm not supposed to say this, but you're not someone who blabbers around, so it doesn't count, I guess."

He takes a deep breath and sighs.

"Yes, I have. No, more like my family have, in general. It's not at all unusual for families with high social status to receive such threats. We never take it too seriously, since most of them are just pranks.

He jerks his chin to himself.

"As for myself though, I haven't received one personally yet."

He looks at me and raises a brow,

"Why are you asking? Are you planning on giving me one?"

"Do you want one?"

"Can't say I do."

 _Awww, that's too bad._

Smirking, I avert my gaze to the windows, heaving a sigh as I did a quick evaluation of what I am about to ask next.

"How about someone else?" I start, looking at him, "Is it possible for someone with the same standing as you to receive threats? Let's say, for example..."

I inhale a deep breath and let it sit in my lungs for a while,

"...someone like Yukinoshita?"

Hayama stops in his track and looks at me, his eyes narrowing and emitting a dangerous aura.

 _Heya, chill man. Can you like, relax, Hayato-kun brooo?_

"What are you trying to imply...?"

Meet bluntness-chan, a new friend of mine.

"Hayama, I think someone is planning to kill Yukinoshita."

"That's not a funny joke, Hikigaya."

We're no longer walking now, just staring, sizing each other and deducing the thoughts of one another. It's like we are both trying to trespass on each other's head and knocking the barricades with brute force.

 _Let's just hope that Ebina-san won't show up out of nowhere. There's no telling what kind BL scene she'd go ranting about if she sees us like this._

"Trust me on this. I wish I'm just messing around."

"You know that this is a very serious matter, right? Are you really sure about this? Where did you get this information."

"Certainity? Let's say 90%. About the source of information though, don't even ask. It's useless. I won't say anything."

It would honestly be hilarous to just go ' _hey, I came from the future_ ' and be done with it. But this is neither a light novel about aliens, time travelers and espers, nor I do have something like a TPDD.

 _Oh wait, the "time traveler" part actually counts.._.

"Alright, let's leave it at that. By the way, ninety percent? Where did the remaining ten go?"

"10% is me being crazy without realizing it yet."

He glares at me after hearing that, probably thinking that I'm just joking. But instead of saying something about my oh-so-not-really-joke, he just shakes his head and sighs.

"How about the police? Have you reported this already?"

"No, and I don't plan to for now. Not yet."

"Why?"

"Reporting this to the police now can ruin the plan. If they take action, the suspect might realize that someone else knows about his plan. I can't take that risk."

Hayama breaths deeply and makes a conflicted face.

Then, he looks at me with an irritating amount of concern in his eyes.

"Is there anything I can do?"

 _Well that's fast. I'm not even asking for help yet._

"You believe me?"

"Let me clarify. I don't believe you. No, I have never trusted you, Hikigaya. But this is about Yukino-chan's life being in danger we're talking about. Prank or not, I could never put a blind eye on this."

 _Yukino-chan, huh?_

Hearing him unconsciously calling Yukinoshita that way makes it clear that he really is worried.

 _Well then, let's put your kind-heartedness to good use._

"There is."

I step forward and continue.

"I'll be ditching the marathon later to do some things outside. I want you to keep an eye on Yukinoshita, after the marathon and on the way to the party—"

He opens his mouth to say something but I raise a hand, signalling him to stop.

"Yeah. A party after the marathon, three table reservation on a pub paid by you, I know that. Yuigahama would certainly invite Yukinoshita over, so keep an eye on her."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah. Don't do anything else, just keep watch. Oh, and look out for suspicious individuals too. Call me immediately if you see one. You have my contact, right?"

He nods.

Our pace has became slower compared to earlier. Looking at Hayama, I can see him with his head bowed down a little, shadows caressing his face. He has a scared look on his face.

 _Hayama Hayato_ has a scared look on his face.

"Hey, Hikigaya... it's today, isn't it? Whatever that thing you're talking about, it will happen today, right?"

 _I hate it when people are being too quick on the uptake sometimes._

"I'm counting on you, Hayama."

Hayama looks at me, it is a look of plea, of someone begging for something.

 _Oi, don't tell me you're bailing out now?_

"Please... please tell me that no one will get hurt today."

"I'll do my best."

 _That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid. Though I can't promise anything._

"One last thing..."

We reach the faculty office and Hayama is now in front of the door, but instead of knocking, he stops and looks at me with inquisitive eyes.

"What is it you're going to do outside? Does it have anything to do with what you told me?"

"Yeah. I'll be asking for someone else's help. If this goes well, someone will be picking Yukinoshita up from the party. So just wait until they arrive."

He seems confused for a moment, then he widen his eyes as if having a sudden realization.

"You're involving her on this...?"

"Not exactly. I won't tell her the same words as I told you. I'm just gonna ask for a favor."

"And you're certain she'll comply?"

"Not so sure. But I'm "interesting" like what she always says. Let's just hope that these interesting charms of mine will help in convincing her."

That does the trick. He nods as a sign of understanding,

"Well at any rate... I hope you know what you're doing, and I will be trusting you on this, so at all costs... don't you dare fuck up."

I smirk internally, _I really can't afford to, y'know?_

 **~※~**

It's now the time for the marathon. Hiratsuka-sensei is currently telling everyone to get changed. Everyone stands up in compliance, and as I'm watching my classmates as they head out the door with irritated faces, my eyes accidentally meet with Hayama's.

He looks back and nods stiffly, heading out the door as well.

Now that everyone's gone, it's only me and Hiratsuka-sensei that is present inside the room.

She's busy erasing all the scribbles and characters in the board with her back facing me, so I guess she hasn't noticed me yet—

"What's up, Hikigaya? Got something to say?"

—or so I thought.

She throws the board eraser on the teacher's table, looking like some kind of badass teacher, then she claps to remove the chalk dust in her hands.

I stand up and clear my throat.

"Actually, yes."

"Hmm? Is it about you ditching the marathon?"

It's like that time when I forgot to use repel and accidentally encountered a Raikou, thinking it was just a small fry bush Pokemon.

Well basically, I'm just surprised.

"What? How did you—"

"Hayama talked to me in the faculty room and asked permission in your place to not attend the marathon."

 _Oh, he actually did that? It can't be! Is Hayama-kun someone like, you know, super megas smart, nyorooo~?_

Kidding aside, I actually appreciate Hayama doing that in my part despite not trusting me fully. However, there's something bothering me here.

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"Just something about an emergency, nothing else."

I can never be so sure. Hiratsuka-sensei has a knack for getting words out of people's mouth without them even noticing.

Source: of course, me.

Staring straight in her, I narrow my eyes.

She visibly flinches because of that, but she glosses it over by putting a fist on her hips and scowling.

"Hey I'm a teacher here, don't give me that look. And really, he didn't tell me anything else. I'm actually curious here.

She takes a seat on the teacher's desk, crossing her legs,

"Hikigaya and Hayama, that's a tandem I would never expect."

 _Heh, can't say I expected that too..._

"Is this a current project of the club?"

"It's not an actual request, but it's related."

It's about the Club President being in mortal peril after all. Of course, it will be related.

"Does the girls know about this?"

Now this is an unexpected development. "No..." I mumble.

A sigh can be heard as Hiratsuka-sensei leaps off the desk, her labcoat fluttering as her feet land on the floor.

Any moment now, she will be going—

 _Imma' maddo scientist. It's so cooool, sonuvabitch._

But she didn't, instead, she just closes off our distance and looks down on me with disappointed eyes.

"I knew it. You're doing something on the background again. Hikigaya, when did you ever learn?"

I sigh and stare straight at her, doing my best to show the sincerity on my face,

"I already learnt my lesson well, sensei. It's not like that, I promise."

"Then why are you not telling your clubmates?"

 _Because they won't believe anything that has to do with dying and going back in time._

"It's complicated..."

"Too complicated that you wouldn't say a word even if I ask about it?"

"Yeah..."

"Haaa... you really are a pain in the ass, you know that?"

I can't deny that.

She slips her hand on her pocket, and I expect her to take out her usual Hiratsuka-sensei stuff. But instead of a stick of Seven Stars or a hundred yen lighter, she pulls out a laminated card and hands it to me.

"Here."

I take it with both hands. "What's this?"

"A gatepass, genius. Isshiki is at the marathon venue, so she wouldn't be able to bribe you out. The commitee won't let you skip the marathon that easily too. Just show them that and you're good."

Widening my eyes as I hear that, I can only open my mouth involuntarily and pour the word out,

"Thanks."

"Sure." She grins and waves at me in a shooing motion. "And don't bother to look for the girls, I'll tell them for you."

I'm about to say "thank you" again but she continues. "Just get going already. You don't want to keep Haruno waiting, right?"

I raise a brow, voicing my suspicion. "Hayama told you, didn't he?"

"Nope," she smirks, "but you always gotta lower your voice when talking over the phone in the corridors. I was right behind you the whole time, you know?"

And with that, I slam the door close, smiling as I realize why there's a labcoat fluttering in the corridors this morning.

* * *

 **Note: the whole chapter five is originally longer than this, but it's too long so I decided to divide it into two chapters. That said, chapter six is already on the way now, so please look forward to it. (again, apologies for Black Psych for getting distracted while writing Gory (the TG crossover). But don't worry,I'm now working on it!) As usual, thanks for all the support and for reading this story, in general.**

 **PS: I just finished reading Hakomari, and now, a fucking idea about putting Oregairu characters in the Game of Idleness is bugging my poor head. Welp.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu... and uh, in respect to that guest who admonished me for 'stealing' Re: Zero's Return by Death , I don't own that one too.**

 _ **Extra long chapter for the wait!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Six:**

* * *

It appears that the council is really taking their job strictly. As much of a pain it is, it's still a good thing to see Isshiki's underlings working hard even without her supervision. They are not even letting anyone out of the school's premises unless they have a written permission made by a teacher; or in my case, a gate pass.

While flashing the precious laminated card in my hand, I walk through the exit made solely for those who are given permission to skip. Just at the same time, my gaze meets with the blazing pairs of those who are wearing gym clothes and lining side by side.

 _Give me a break, won't you? I'll be more than happy to trade places with anyone of you anytime._

As I let out a sigh that echoes all of the melancholy of being forced to do something as troublesome, I keep my legs on moving forward. My destination: the place I have already been to three times.

You guessed it right. It's the pub.

As for the reason why I'm heading there, it's because I want to make sure of something. Well, of course, I'll be meeting Haruno there as well. I chose the place partly because it's close to the school, and partly because it will be easier for me to do what I have planned to do afterwards.

After walking for about ten minutes, the familiar view of the pub reaches my view. I trudge forward for a couple of steps again until I'm in the front door, then I twist the knob.

Since it's still a little early, only a few people are present inside. The aroma of their coffees intermingling with one another stimulates my nose and I make a mental note to order one too later.

I scan the area for a while, searching for the person I'm supposed to meet, but it appears she hasn't arrived yet, so I check my phone to look for the time, realizing that I came a couple of minutes earlier than scheduled.

I choose the seat beside the window so that Haruno can spot me easily, and lean my elbows on the table, just at the same time when a shadow looms in front of me.

"May I take your order, sir?"

"Later please, I'm still waiting for someone."

I look up after saying that, then, I see a familiar girl as she smiles and nods at me. "Alright, I'll come back later," she says and walks away, hugging a tray in her chest.

 _Now I'm sure this is not some prank_ , I smirk internally. _That waitress didn't even recognize me._

At the same time, the polished oak door to my left softly creaks and an old man in a suit comes out, prompting me to hitch a breath when I recognize him.

Our gaze meet, and in response, he nods.

However, it's not a nod of recognition, but of courtesy.

It's a nod of a pub manager greeting his customer, not of someone greeting a person he knows.

It pains a bit to see this kindhearted man walking past me without a single word, while he just saved me from freezing to death a day ago.

Or, more specifically, a time that never matters. A day in a never-after.

"Oh, Araragi-san."

A familiar voice shakes me out of my thoughts.

And no, it's not from a wandering ghost.

"Alright, I know we both have the same trademark ahoge and both used to have no friends. But I am neither a pseudo-human nor do I have a vampire hiding in my shadow. You should know this, but my name is Hikigaya Hachiman."

Haruno smirks as she pulls a chair and plops herself parallel on me.

"Sorry, I bit my tongue."

"No, you did it on purpose."

It's this time that I took note of what she's wearing. Haruno is clad on a velvet overflowing vest, definitely eye-catching, but not vibrant enough that it hurts the eye. A tucked-in blouse is not-so-hidden beneath it, having two of it's upper buttons left unattended. Because of that, her _Harunos_ bulged into glory, leaving the lower part of her vest hanging as if placed in a clothes rack.

An overly voluptuous clothes rack.

Just then, the waitress happens to come back at a perfect timing, pulling my head off unnecessary thoughts as she hands us the menu and takes our orders.

Haruno chooses iced-coffee, while I pick a coffee brew that takes the whole capacity of my wallet. No big deal. I'm on my way to saving someone's life anyway, so let me indulge in this little luxury, at least.

The waitress walks away with our orders, leaving me all alone with a personification of a certain potions professor. Her stare gives me the feeling like she's doing Legilimency on me.

Note to self: train Occlumency later for future purposes.

I clear my throat. "A-alright, about—"

"The favor," she cuts me off while closing her eyes and nodding, "you already told me that earlier. Mind you though, I will only accept if it's within my capabilities."

"Oh, so even you have limitations, huh..." I mumble while raising a brow. It isn't entirely voiced as a question.

Haruno blinks. "Of course. I'm not some sort of a god." Then, she chuckles as if realizing something, "Though mostly, I get everything I want."

 _That's oddly reassuring, Yukinoshita-sama._

Heaving a deep breath, I look at her straight in the eye.

"I want you to give Yukinoshita a ride home tonight, please."

The waitress arrives once again and places our orders on the table with so much feminine grace. I wonder for a second if this is just some nice front she makes to appease the customers. After all, she had been really rude to me the last time we met.

Oh well, no point thinking about it since I don't really give a damn about this person as much as she doesn't give a damn about me. What I should be worrying about right now is the person sitting in front of me, her eyes widened and lips slightly parted.

She responds with silence after I voice out my favor.

Talk about rude.

Finally though, as if waiting for the waitress to leave, she speaks.

"Do I look like a cab driver to you, Hikigaya-kun?"

"Yes."

She puts a hand to her chest, gasping, "I'm a little hurt, honestly."

Let me take this moment to explain. Last night, I realized that Yukinoshita is the prime target of the murderer, and I only happen to get killed because of my own stupid actions. I also accounted the possibility of that murderer being an unprofessional one.

Thus, given those information, I brewed a risky, yet workable plan to stop him.

And that is to make shooting Yukinoshita on close range impossible.

Looking back, all I can see is a bastard who had his face hidden by a bonnet. He's not entirely threatening, save for the gun at his disposal. As far as I can remember, he doesn't have anything to ride on since he only just ran by foot after shooting me and Yukinoshita on both loops.

That said, if Yukinoshita will be safely riding a car until she reaches her apartment, the murderer will lose the chance to shoot her in close range.

However, as for the possibility of him trying to shoot Yukinoshita on a moving car, I can't say that there is the guarantee that she will not get hit. That will be the risk I am betting on here. Taking the murderer's unprofessional label into account, he will most likely miss if he tries to shoot a moving target or just give up in trying altogether.

Not to mention that there is this possibility that the Yukinoshita's limousine is bulletproof. But I want to refrain from asking Haruno head on about that, I'll just look suspicious.

And tell you what, having someone like Yukinoshita Haruno being suspicious of you is a bad thing. Very bad thing.

Clearing my throat after reflecting on my thoughts, I look at Haruno again. "Anyway, that's my favour, Yukinoshita-san."

"That's all?"

"Nothing else."

"You're awfully disappointing, Hikigaya-kun."

She stretches her back as she audibly sighs, accentuating her bountiful chest in the process and adds, "Totally boring."

"I know..." I trail off, taking my eyes out of her direction for a second before staring back again with a beseeching look, "but I don't live solely to provide entertainment for you, Yukinoshita-san."

A glint finds its way on her eyes, and she raises a brow, making a look that asks "you sure about that?".

Of course, I choose to play it safe and stay silent.

After a brief moment of silence, she clears her throat and speaks, "Come clear to me for a moment though. Do you want me to personally drive her home? If so, then I have to decline. I passed my driving test a year ago, but I suck at driving."

"Doesn't matter who drives."

I wave my hand to show that it's not a big deal. Which is true, excluding the possibilty that this woman here would be the one who drives. "As long as she goes home safely, it's fine. You still have that limousine, right—?"

"Hold it."

She cuts me off and I glance at her. There's a weird look present on her face, and I hurriedly clamp my mouth shut, wondering if I said something wrong.

" _Goes home safely_ , you said," she narrow her eyes. "What in the world do you mean by that?"

"Ah—"

I hold my breath unknowingly.

Cold sweat begins to form in my back, trickling down my spine. My hand automatically clenches the folds of my slacks, hard enough to turn my knuckles white. As if manipulated digitally, everything comes faster than normal, too quick for my mind to process.

"Be honest with me, Hikigaya."

On an incredibly fast pace, the tables turned.

Haruno is now the predator, and I am nothing but a pathetic prey.

"Is Yukino-chan in danger?"

"No..."

I deny.

But that denial is no more than just a reaction, and I know more than anyone that there's not even a single ounce of conviction put into that word — I'm just simply denying the truth in reflex, just like what I always do when backed into a corner.

I have no comebacks prepared, no alibis, no way outs.

 _Having someone like Yukinoshita Haruno being suspicious of you is a bad thing..._

—I remember saying something like that just now.

And now, the person in question is scrutinizing me with distrusting eyes. She leans forward and stabs me repeatedly with her piercing stare. Her eyes are blank and calculative, no longer twinkling with candidness. The face that has a wide, playful grin a while ago has reverted into a one devoid of any sign of emotion.

Even the arrogant and mocking aura is gone.

 _This is the true Yukinoshita Haruno_ , I realize with a shudder, _the one with her mask taken off._

I didn't say anything. No, more like I can't say anything. Now, I'm suddenly enveloped with a deep sense of sympathy towards Yukinoshita. Having a sister like this, no wonder she becomes agitated when she's around.

Haruno leans back to her chair, probably realizing that I won't be uttering a single word. On a side note, I think I deserve some credit for withstanding her imposing presence, though. Even in this situation, I still try my best to keep my eyes connected to hers, never breaking contact. And looking through, I can sense that there are a lot of things going on inside her head, although she's capable enough to not show a single hint of it on her expression.

To intimidate and analyze a person at the same time.

Yukinoshita Haruno is one to be feared, without a doubt.

"I found it odd, you know? How you chose to ask me directly for a favor," she take her eyes off me as she says that, leaning back on her chair and glancing outside.

"As far what I've known about you," she continues, "you're blinded enough to try to do every single thing singlehandedly. It may seem sometimes like you're underestimating yourself, since you refer to your ways as the "worst possible". But at your core, you're always expecting the best results. Maybe there are times when you gets your way, but there are also times when you don't; and because of that, you try to avoid asking for help as much as possible. But it's not because you're being considerate, right? It's simply nothing but secretive arrogance. You're raising yourself on a high pedestal by saying you're well below the others, while in truth..."

She grins and sneers at me.

"...you've always believed that the one below is better than the one above. An ambitious underdog, that's what you are."

It will not take a genius to realize that she's provoking me. She's drop-kicking my ego, trying to disrupt my logical stance by appealing to my emotions, by insinuating shame and anger. She wants me to break, to spill everything she needs to know without asking.

 _Seriously, this woman._

Any normal person would be outraged when insulted to such an extent.

But here is the thing.

I have never been normal to begin with.

"Anyway, since you're that way, isn't it weird to find you sitting here and asking me for a favor? For sure you can ask your mistresses instead, but you chose me. Gahama-chan, and that— who is it again? The one who wormed the way in the student council? Meh, can't be bothered..."

She pauses for a moment and takes a sip on her drink.

"Those two would be more than willing to help their precious man, I'm sure. So why me, I wonder? Why choose the older sister route if the _second-girl_ and _kouhai_ route is much easier?"

It's frightening to see how fast she connect the dots.

"Now I know. It's because it is a very serious matter that needs to be handled by capable hands, isn't it? "Goes home safely," you said. You know I'm not dumb to not pick up something on that, right? You can underestimate yourself all you want, but don't underestimate me.

"If I will be frank, this is what all seems to be..."

In hindsight, this is probably a fault in my part. I should have planned this a little better.

"...my sister is on danger, and you're underhandedly making me help you in protecting her."

I should have known that I can't hide a thing when dealing with someone like this woman. Manipulation is her forté, and of course, she will notice when the same thing is being done to her.

Now that I think about it, it's possible that she's already being suspicious of me the whole time and was just waiting for something to slip its way unconsciously out of my mouth.

 _Ah, this is it_. After a mere careless slip of a tongue, I ruined the whole plan. No limousines to take Yukinoshita home, meaning, the murderer can reign free.

My carelessness will cause Yukinoshita's death again—

"But don't you worry, Hikigaya-kun. Since you're so cute that way, I'll let you deceive me."

—or at least, it should have been.

Haruno winks, snapping her fingers.

"You're overlooking something here, Hikigaya-kun. I love my sister. I love Yukino-chan. I love her more than anything else, and if I hear that someone, or something is trying to harm her, it's a given that I will raise merry hell.

 _No one can measure the amount of siscon aura she exudes while saying that._

"Of course, there's the guarantee that you will protect her, since you obviously care about Yukino-chan.

"But if by some abysmal scenario that you can't, all you have to do is to come running at me and say, _"please protect my future wife"_ and Onee-chan will do the rest."

Hearing her joking like her usual annoying self allows me to let out the breath that I have been holding the entire time. I lean back on my chair as I look at her grinning face.

There are a lot of things I know about Haruno that most people don't. Though it's not on the same level as bragging how close you are to a person by knowing things — I'm not as superficial as that. It's more like I have a knack for spotting carefully hidden things.

And it just happens that this woman hides an awful lot of things. As I have said, the one named Yukinoshita Haruno is shrewd, manipulative and cunning. She's a person who wears masks over a thick layer of masks.

I know that, I have seen past all of that.

But now, I have confirmed another fact.

Yukinoshita Haruno definitely loves her sister.

"Thank you."

I never thought that I would be saying those words to a person like her. With so much sincerity, I might add.

"It's all for Yukino-chan," she declares on a warm tone.

"I know. But still... thank you." — _Thank you for not being as twisted as I made you up to be._

"Seeing you getting all sentimental like that makes me wonder just how big of a trouble my sis has gotten into."

"She'll be fine," I pause, taking a sip from my cup. "She has a troublesome older sister and a good-for-nothing club mate on her back, after all."

 _Ugh, that sounds so cheesy, I'm gonna puke._

"You can't be any righter. Though I prefer more if you describe me as a breathtakingly-gorgeous older sister instead."

"In your dreams."

She smirks before taking her phone in her purse, typing something at a stupidly rapid pace. Then, after putting her phone away, she looks at me again.

"The family's limousine will be the best choice, since a sniper bullet can only leave a dent on that."

For the first time today, she grimaces, "Assuming that the scale of "danger" is that high, that is."

 _Perfect. Too damn perfect._

I try to hide my satisfaction by feigning a surprised mumble. "...can't believe that was actually bulletproof."

"Why the surprise? Our father used to ride that. A diet representative needs maximum security, after all."

Now I really am surprised. "Diet representative...?"

So when Hayama talked about having a "high social status", he actually meant this? Whoa, talk about reputation. I'm feeling so small here, trying to save a daughter of a diet member...

"You should know more about our family if you're planning on marrying Yukino-chan one day, you know?"

"I can't remember saying anything about marrying Yukinoshita."

"So you don't plan on marrying her? How troublesome... but I guess I could do well as a cover if you two gets involved on a premarital affair."

"I'm not saying anything about that either."

"That aside, what time do you want me to pick her up?"

I was about to say that she's about to pick her up here, but—

"She'd be in a party here, right?"

"How did you...?" — _Okay, woman. What the hell?_

"Hayato paid a pub reservation here for tonight, that's all I know. Gahama-chan would most likely drag Yukino-chan here too. Details, details."

 _Details, details, my ass._

"Yeah, you know too much it's already creepy alright. Anyway, time will be... around seven?"

"No problem. So all I have to do is to pick her up and give her a ride home?"

"Yeah."

"Well then. If you may, I'll be off now since I still need to make some arrangements," she stands up from her seat, leaving her payment on the table.

"Arrangements? For what?"

"I can't just take a limousine off a garage, you know?" She scrunches up her face. "Mom will kill me if I do."

I thought you just go off and shout "Hey mom, lemme ride the limo for a sec!" then your mother will say "Sure, but don't crash to people, okay?".

No? Eh, whatever. I can never understand rich folks.

"Well, good luck... I guess?"

She nods before turning her back on me.

"Yukinoshita-san," I call, and she looks back. "You're going to do something about this too, aren't you?"

She snorts. "That goes without asking, Hikigaya-kun. I can't let you do the job alone, after all."

And with that, I watch her as she exits the pub, her shoulder-length hair swaying like a banner as the wind outside blows past her direction.

At the same time, a sigh comes out of me as I remember the serious look on her face while she types in her phone earlier. I don't know who, but I can say for sure Haruno was sending a message to someone that time.

Oh well.

Of course, after realizing that her precious sister is on danger, Haruno will be on the move. After all, that woman is not as easygoing as she seems.

 **~※~**

I decide to stay inside the pub for a while after Haruno's departure. This time, now that the distraction (Haruno) is gone, I can now take a better look at my surroundings. It's a bit weird, looking around on a familiar place despite being here for the first time. Well, I mean only in the "technical" sense. On the previous loops, I had been here for at least three times already.

But here is the catch.

In this iteration, all of those memories meant nothing.

This world restarted, maybe not in a definite zero, but it did. Excluding my memories about the murder, everything else have absolutely no value. If I look back, I will be able to see that there hasn't been anything to begin with. There is nothing to look back on. The moment I looped, those January elevens have been rendered empty.

Nothing else ever matters, only now, and the present alone.

There is indeed nothing to look back from.

I wonder, is this how those time-travel fiction protagonists feel like? It's a bit corny, I know, trying to compare my fucked up situation to something like fiction, of all things. But I can't really find any other subject to make a comparison on. After all, my situation right now seems purely fictional, so being as ignorant as I am, I really have no other choice but to rely on all those scifi books I have read so far.

 _*Bzzzt*_

Out of nowhere, as I'm busy lamenting over nothing, my phone rings.

No, it vibrates, rather.

And no, I definitely did not switch my phone to silent mode because I was so embarrassed about what happened while I was changing into my indoor shoes earlier.

Definitely not.

Anyway, after looking at the screen, I grimace as I take a peek on the three capital letters sandwiched by a mirage of stars.

With great reluctance, I answer.

[Hikki, where in the world are you?!]

Or more like "tried to" as the other person on the line chooses to throw the etiquette of "moshi moshi" out of the window.

"I'm in Japan, Yuigahama."

[Of course you're in Japan, where else— hey! Don't try to worm your way out of this, mister! Where are you?!]

It seems like Yuigahama is in a very bad mood. Her voice sounds like the wailings from the deepest pits of hell, which vibrates on my phone reciever in such a thundering way that my ears even start to shake.

 _Alright then. Seems like there's no point dragging this any further._

"I'm on the pub where you will be partying later."

That honestly sounds like a very cool answer.

But of course, I said no such thing.

"...somewhere."

[What kind of lame answer is that...? Seriously, Hikki... Yukinon's looking kinda worried too, y'know? Sensei only told us that you'd be out to do some stuff but she won't tell us anything else!]

"Sorry..." I sigh. "Today was kind of... hectic. Though it's nothing you should be worried about. I'm mostly done now anyway, so it shouldn't be a problem."

After thinking about it for a second, I add,

"I can't go over the details yet, but I'll try to tell you guys about it later..."

[Really...?]

Though this is the exact same promise I made to Yukinoshita that time— the one I failed to fulfill, I'll be treating it with utmost difference. Because this time...

"Yeah really."

I'll make sure to fulfill my promise.

Clearing my throat to remove the thoughts away in my head, I glance at the clock plastered on the wall beside the counter.

 _Half an hour past four._

At this time of the day, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama are probably still both inside the infirmary — that is, if the circumstances haven't changed drastically, considering that I'm behaving a little diferrently this time around. Not like I think of myself as a very important subject, but I want to interpret the flow of things as something like a stack of dominoes.

—If a single piece stumbles, the whole group will fall.

Taking that analogy into this situation, given that I chose to not attend the marathon this time — it's inevitable if some things turn out differently.

And so, in order to make sure, I ask,

"Oh, by the way... where are you right now?"

[Oh? I'm with Yukinon on the way out of the infirmary. Yukinon kinda retired midway from the marathon, y"see...]

 _How surprising. Really? Waa... I have, like, totally no idea._

Would that melodrama suffice?

[W-well, why'd you ask?]

"Just because."

[Eh? You're being totally vague today, it's creepy.]

"Yeah, I know. I'm creepy on max levels. Like 'super totally' kind of creepy."

[N-no,you're not that creepy... just a tiny bit. Like 'kinda creepy but not totally' sort of.]

Yeah, I don't even know what we're talking about anymore. Totally.

Anyway, there is this matter about getting the invitation to the party. Granted that I am planning to attend so I could personally make sure that Haruno would come to pick Yukinoshita up, I can't just show up without having someone to invite me. After all, I'm still a bit guilty about that 'party crashing' I did on the last loop.

Oh well, looks like I'll be needing to perform this overly-used procedure.

"Anyway, you going home now?"

 _—Hook._

[Ah no, we're actually going to— oh wait, I almost forgot! You see... Hayato-kun kinda invited us to a party... and Yukinon's coming too!]

 _—Line_

[Well, I think... since she's not giving me a straight "okay". But don't you think it'd be nice if we all go there together? Us three? So, uh... I was thinking... maybe you could also—]

 _And, sinker._

"Sure."

I expected her to say something on the lines of 'Eh, really?' or 'Seriously?', but—

"That's so fast!"

She blurt out instead.

"Huh?"

 _What do you mean by 'that's so fast'? So you already expected me to come along? Am I really that easy to read, or Yuigahama is just too optimistic?_

[Well, I was expecting you to go "why should I waste my time in such nuisances when I could just laze at home and ogle at Komachi?", something like that.]

"That's one heck of an impersonation... though the last part kinda ruined it all."

 _I will only ogle at Totsuka, and no one else! Not even Komachi!_

[It did? But I thought the last part sounded more like you... well whatever. More importantly, you'll be coming, huh..]

I can almost hear the skin of her cheeks stretching upwards.

"Yeah..."

[That's nice. I thought for sure you'd decline—]

[Yui! Come on, we're going!]

A loud voice cuts Yuigahama off tracks.

Judging by its tone, that's probably Miura.

 _Miura, huh... oh, now that I think about it—_

[C-coming! Ah, Hikki, I'll just message you the place later, alright? We're on the way now. Make sure to go, okay?]

"All right. Oh wait, hang on a sec."

[Hmm?]

"Is Miura with you?"

[Eh? Yeah, why?]

"Hand her the phone, please."

[W-why...?]

"No reason. Just give her."

[O-okay...?]

Rustling sounds come out on my phone speaker. After a few mumbles that I assume to be Yuigahama handing the phone to Miura—

[Ahh? Hikio? No, that would be like, really gross.]

—an irritated voice resounds, but obviously still away from the phone.

[C'mon, Yumiko, just get on with it for now...]

Yuigahama pleads with a nervous giggle.

[Why me? Talk to him yourself, Yui.]

But Miura is just way too savage.

 _Not even minding to lower your voice. Aren't you rude, Miura-san?_

[But he says—]

"Yuigahama."

Fed up with my dignity being trampled on without the other person caring one bit, I ask, "Put the speaker on."

[O-okay.]

"Oi, Miura. Listen up—"

[Why should I? Can't you just knock it off already?]

I don't have enough middle fingers to show how much hate I have for this bitch as of now, but since fighting fire with fire doesn't make any sense, I begrudgingly decide to keep my cool.

Taking a deep breath,

"It's Liberal Arts."

I spit out with no hesitation.

[...huh?]

"You're welcome."

And just like that, I drop the call.

 **~※~**

The bell tingles as I close the door, facing the bustling crowd on the busy afternoon streets outside. Since I already idled inside the pub for more than half an hour, I finally decide it's time to head out.

The talk with Haruno is tiresome, to say the least. The outcome surpassed even my most ambigious expectations. My initial plan is to just convince her into giving Yukinoshita a ride home by indirectly implying a sense of danger. Of course, I know that my plan isn't perfect — but that is all I could come up after only for a short amount time.

I also have back up plans in case something abysmal happens, but even those have been laid to waste after Haruno got wind of what I was trying to do.

My plan failed, that is a clear fact, and to say I'm not upset about it would have me walking from here to my home with the word LIAR written on my forehead.

But things isn't really as bad as it seems.

My plan might have failed,

But I still grasped my goal.

Perhaps the only problem I have here lies on how much information Haruno has gotten upon seeing through me. I don't want her to get involved deeply. Well, Hayama is an exception, since I only asked him to keep watch. However, judging by the flow of things, it's already inevitable for Haruno to be deeply involved since she already have an idea of what is happening.

Yes, it's true that she is doing this for the sake of her sister's well being. But there is also the fact that I basically placed her into that position by utilizing her deep concern for Yukinoshita.

Even though my original plan didn't work exactly as I expected it, everything that has happened by far is still a result of my meddling.

That means...

If something bad happens to Haruno because of this...

It will be my fault.

Shaking my head to put my fears on hold, I look ahead.

The chill of January is biting into my cheeks. In front of me is a road; one with two separate divisions for the vehicles in opposite direction to tread on. Basically a normal two way road. Each side has a sidewalk installed to it, both having a crowd of bustling people.

The left side follows the path to the park on the way back to Sobu, while the right one follows the path to the central square.

I initially had the urge to go straight home, but that would be a very bad idea. After all, shutting myself in my room at this point would lay all of the plans and preparations I have worked on in vain. And then, I also had the urge to go back inside the pub, but that also is a bad idea. Yuigahama's message about the details of the party isn't arriving yet, and I can't risk the possibility of them meeting me on that place even before I receive the address.

With that in mind, I pull my feet forward and walk into that direction.

The right side that leads to Yukinoshita's apartment complex.

 **~※~**

A couple of minutes after I started walking, I came to a realization.

It's still a little bright to be called evening, so this time of the day is at most, just late afternoon. I am currently standing on the sidewalk with my eyes darting around; watching the few people, few cars, and few establishments present.

Alright, let me repeat myself.

Few.

Even though it's a rush hour, there is only few people nearby.

That means, this place is naturally unpopulated.

A particular street without enough establishments, scarce people and, most of all, given that there are almost no shops nearby—

This place most likely has no security cameras around.

With all those facts in mind, I finally made a plausible conclusion:

This place is indeed a safe place to commit a crime.

Putting myself on that bastard's shoes, it's possible that I would do just the same. With a murderer's mindset, killing Yukinoshita will be no big deal, just shoot her and make sure she's dead and you're well done with it. However, as a killer, it's not only the execution that takes all the priorities — it's also the outcome and reducing the traces you would leave behind.

As a small fry murderer who moves with no proper plan in mind, this is definitely the only place he would choose. This street is not really a very long one, if I will estimate, this is, at most is just quarter a kilometer. The only problem here is that, this certain street seems to be left to rust through time.

This street is neither a commercial nor a residential area after all. Being the place close to the harbor, it has been set to be an industrial site long ago. Most of the establishments here are all factories or warehouses.

Contrastive to the lively atmosphere the street where the pub lies on, this place feels dull as hell. Of course, despite being deserted, that doesn't mean the place is entirely devoid of people. There are still some pedestrians crossing by, though most of them are walking faster than usual; probably dying to get out of this gloomy place.

I can't really blame them, if you ask me, since this place also gives me the creeps. Also, this place seems to emit an eerie sense of familiarity.

And I know for sure why that is the case.

That is because the exact position I am standing on...

Is where both murders took place.

I crouch down on the ground, picturing every details that has been etched into my memories. My fingers run across the rough texture of asphalt, brushing through the small pieces of shattered rocks and dust.

This is where it happened.

Both my and Yukinoshita's death.

I stand up after heaving a deep breath. I feel like I'm visiting the grave of some relative, and that's so frightening in my case. To be in a place where you and another person you know died before is so messed up. I can't even begin to describe the mixed feelings of fear and anger welling up inside me. The stillness, the rapid beating inside my chest, the sudden gasping for air — all of it, not missing a single thing, is not failing to make me remember all those cursed moments.

It makes me want to scream, to rip every strand of hair in my head, and to bash my goddamn forehead on the pavement and crush my skull just to see if I would be waking up in my bed again.

"—Ugh!"

But I didn't get the chance to do so.

A strong impact hits the left side of my body, throwing me on the other side. Luckily, I manage to prevent myself from falling face forward by tossing my arms on the concrete wall beside me. After looking forward with a snap, I see a pair of brown braids swinging in the air.

A girl who appears to be the same age as me looks back with her neck craned backwards. She has a panicked look on her face — and that only multiplied after she sees me. Her eyes widen in surprise and she stops, opening her mouth as if to say something, only to close it again abruptly. After raising a confused brow, she lets out an 'ahh' as if understanding something.

"Sorry! I'm in a hurry!"

And just like that, the girl runs without another word, holding a grocery bag in her hand. At the same time, I let out a relieved sigh. For the love of god, for a second there I thought someone was about to kill me. I massage my chest which has been beating madly at the moment, then something on the ground catches my eye.

Guess what? It's a can of MAXX coffee.

"H-hey! You dropped—"

I pick the can up and raise my voice, but when I look up,

"...this."

She can no longer be seen.

Alright, I have two choices here. The first one is to leave the can on where it fell in case the girl comes back to pick it up; and two is to just take it for myself.

Oh well.

Since choosing the former would mostly likely end up with the can being picked up by another lucky bastard—

I just flip the cap and take a sip.

What? She's nowhere to be seen, and it's not like I'm righteous enough to chase after her just to hand back a goddamn can of coffee. Add to the fact that free drink is free drink. I will just pay that twin-braided girl if I somehow meet her again.

After mentally noting that, I direct my gaze back in the deserted street again. Aside from suddenly bumping with a random girl and getting a free can of coffee, nothing remarkably strange caught my attention.

I take one quick glance around one last time, just as the same time that I feel something vibrating in my pocket. Snatching my phone out, I simply take a look on the contact name attached to the message — and, after making sure that there are stars flashing on the screen, I chuck it back in inside without checking its contents.

"Time to head back, it seems."

 **~※~**

"Hikki...?"

Yuigahama is the first to notice me as I near the pub. She waves energetically at me and I do the same, only with a quarter of her enthusiasm. I walk for a couple of steps again until I can fully see the other people standing nearby. Including Yuigahama herself, there are three girls present; Yukinoshita is already expected, but for some reason, Miura is there too.

"Oh it's you! Where'd you go!?"

 _Shouting something like that on a place like this, some idiots might confuse you to someone I would rather not label, you know? Can't you tone it down a bit?_

Well anyway, since I didn't expect them to actually wait for me outside the pub, their sudden presence took me by surprise. And thus, my head goes a momental shutdown, leaving me fumbling for my words.

"Ah? I just... uh..."

 _Damn it, Yuigahama. Why do you have to suddenly appear when I was still thinking of an alibi? Are you my mom, or something? Oh wait, that sounds really weird..._

"It's me, Yui."

As I let out an internal curse, a male voice echoes behind me. And surprisingly, I didn't even have to look to realize about whom that pompous tone came from. Instead, I look at the girl in question.

"Eh?"

Yuigahama lets out a dumb sound as she quirks her head to one side. In response, the voice behind me lets out a wry laugh.

"Ah, I mean it's me. I'm the reason why Hikitani skipped the marathon."

Craning my neck backwards, I see Hayama as he scratches the back of his neck while nodding at me.

"Oh..."

Yuigahama is at complete loss of words, and so am I. Squinting my eyes, I direct a questioning glance towards Hayama, making sure my face is hidden from the girls. In response, Hayama loosens his 'embarassed pretty boy' look a bit and stares intently at me for a moment. As annoying as it is, that gesture alone is enough for me to take a hint.

 _Is this what Ebina-san meant by 'unique way of communication between homos'? Hm, just what the hell is a homo, by the way? And unique way of communication? Is that something like telepathy?_

Oh well, best leave it alone, I guess. I don't know why, but thinking about it makes my skin crawl with disgust.

Yeah, let's stop talking about it.

Clearing my throat, I decide to lend Hayama a hand,

"W-well, Hayama had something important to do, but he didn't really have the time since he's reqiured to run the marathon—"

"And being the person who doesn't have any importance at all, he asked you to do whatever that thing on his behalf?"

My words are halted midway by an unexpected intervention. So cold it almost feels like the world got frozen in a blink of an eye. Of course, there is only one person capable of such a feat.

And that is no other than Yukinoshita.

...Or rather, a _very pissed_ Yukinoshita.

"Er, well yeah—"

"Unacceptable."

"Y-Yukinon..."

See? Even the usually touchy feely Yuigahama is scared and backs away a few inches from her. Yukinoshita doesn't seem to mind and just continues on glaring at me.

"I'm already aware that you are such a lowlife. But never did I expect that you would dare to lower yourself even more."

That's a bit harsh alright. On normal cases, I would be ready to retort something that would impose that she is even lower than me. Maybe something on the lines of her chest being flat as a board, or her chest being nonexistent, or her chest being so depressing it could even rival Anohana, but this time it's different.

An irritated Yukinoshita and an angry Yukinoshita are two different things. There is a very large line between irritation and anger, and everyone should know that confusing one from the other with regards to Yukinoshita's mood is a grave mistake. The best course of action is to just shut up and nod like a good child. After all, no one would dare to oppose the wrath of an Ice Queen—

"Um, Yukinoshita–san?"

—well, except for this blonde baboon, I suppose.

Hayama, who has intervened in the worst possible moment, winces as Yukinoshita tears her eyes off my direction and glares at him instead.

"The same goes for you. You fully know what the Service Club is for, but instead of inquiring all of us, you chose to coerce only one member behind our backs. Don't you think your actions are a bit disagreeable, Hayama-kun?"

"You make it sound so illegal..."

I mumble that without thinking, attracting Yukinoshita's cold stare again.

"You are not to talk when I am speaking, Hikigaya-kun."

Shrinking slightly, "Yes, of course," I squeak, not quite befitting of a man. _While we're at it, what is "pride as a man" anyway? I haven't heard of that. Is that edible?_

That aside, I shake my head and look at Hayama, who has surprisingly taken an apologetic pose by bowing ninety degrees.

"I'm really sorry if my actions offended you in any way. I'll make sure to not make the same mistake next time."

 _Ah, where's the need to apologize? What's with this guy? Hold it, aren't I the one who planned all this? Why the hell are you bowing? Seriously, stop that. You're making me feel really bad._

"Y-Yeah... sorry."

After all that, I end up bowing too, though my eyes are directed to Hayama instead. That apology is not meant for Yukinoshita, I'm doing all this for her sake, after all. Plus, even though she is being rude to the very humble person who is trying his best to save her life, there is no point being mad at her too.

I literally volunteered myself into doing this, add to the fact that she is not aware of anything that's happening around — which is my own choice matter of factly.

It's Hayama I should be sending my apologies to, since even though we don't exactly see each other eye to eye, he still did everything I asked him for. More than anyone else, it's this guy that I have already troubled a lot, so swallowing a bit my pride and offering a simple apology would be no big deal for me.

"...very well."

An embarrassed sounding mumble from Yukinoshita pulls me out of my thoughts. It's a bit funny, if you ask, the way she tries hard to look dignified even with her ears and cheeks flushing pink.

It appears that by apologizing right after Hayama, it gaves off the impression that I was apologizing to her too. I don't really mind if she misunderstands that bit since I also feel a little guilty keeping her in the dark.

No, more importantly... Yukinoshita flusters when more than one person apologizes to her at the same time? Is she she really the type of person who would react that way? Or perhaps, was it because Hayama bowed and apologized to her that she got embarrassed?

Oh wow, I don't know why, but I suddenly got an unhealthy urge to punch someone while imagining that. Ohh, that's so scary. I never thought I would be able to do something as violent as that. Hmm, let's forget everything about that.

"Ahaha... so uhh, it's over now, right? No more fighting?"

Yuigahama, who has been strangely staying silent over the whole exchange finally speaks up, her nervous giggles easing the tense atmosphere. This prompts Yukinoshita to revert from her admonishing mode to her normal mode. Of course, there is no such mode from Yukinoshita because that woman's never been normal to begin with, but you get my point.

"We're not fighting, Yuigahama-san, I'm just stating the obvious."

 _Obvious? Like how Hayama was just "disagreeable" while I was a "lowlife"? Can you see the difference there? Really now, Yukinoshita. The only obvious I'm seeing here is your severe prejudice against me._

"O-okay. Let's go inside then?" Yuigahama asks, and for some reason, I notice a genuine sense of worry from her tone. "For real, I just want to have some fun... I mean c'mon, that thing earlier really freaked the hell out of me..."

Part of what she said causes a ripple to form inside my stomach. It's the same as feeling something so eerily unusual. Setting Yuigahama's worried tone aside, just what the hell does she mean by "that thing earlier"?

As if on cue, the other people present stiffen after hearing her offhand remark. It's like they have startled themselves after divulging something that should be kept hidden. Yukinoshita glances worriedly at me while Hayama's smile slips off. Miura, on the other hand, just sighs indifferently in response and looks away.

My suspicions rings true. Something is definitely wrong.

I narrow my eyes at Yuigahama, catching her line of sight before she could look away. Yuigahama may not be the smartest person I know of, but I can tell that she's trying to do something weird here. Well, not weird in a bad sense. It just appears like she's trying to imply something indirectly. It feels like that mere 'slip of the tongue' is not actually a slip.

That is why I found it weird. "Yuigahama" and "indirect" could never be on the same sentence together. As far as what I have known about this girl, she is not the type who will dance around the topic or set a tune to bring it on play. I didn't mean to say she's hopeless, but the Yuigahama I know would always tackle a certain topic head on, albeit a little hesitant sometimes.

So what is this feeling I'm getting that she's trying to tell me something that shouldn't be said in the first place?

Although, taking it the other way, maybe it's just me being too cautious and skeptical. I mean, I already know that I absolutely am; but that is only when the situation calls. I'm not some kind of robot who is always mentally on guard, there are times when I let myself be vulnerable too.

And besides, just what has gotten to me that I'm being suspicious of Yuigahama? Why her, of all people? As embarrassing as it is to admit, no matter how much of an airhead this girl is, she has my full trust. Maybe there are times when I oppose her ideas, but that is an exception. After all, I may trust her as a person, but not her silly judgements.

But then again, what has driven me to doubt a person I trust so much?

Have all this life and death problems, and all this time looping made me react to the people around me this way? If so, then just what kind of person will I become should I succeed on saving Yukinoshita?

Those questions make me shudder, and the people around me didn't fail to notice. Yukinoshita eyes me worryingly, Yuigahama holds out a hand, only to pull it back, and even Miura is looking at me curiously.

"Hikki? What's wrong? You have a very scary look just a moment ago..."

"No, it's nothing," I shake my head. "More importantly, what's that thing you're talking about?"

"Ahh..." Yuigahama lets out a dumb sound as she lowers her head and smiling impishly.

"...I'm sorry."

All of a sudden, Yukinoshita apologizes to me.

"We happened to witness a rather... unsightly scene while walking on the way here. And... I assumed that you already have a lot to think about, so I ask them to set the matter aside... at least for now," she sighs. "But I suppose it was wrong in my part to assume that Yuigahama-san can keep quiet about something."

"Ehehe... my bad."

"I, um, apologize..." Yukinoshita adds, looking away, "for trying to keep things from you."

"...no, I know you mean well," I manage despite the lump obstructing my throat. Rather than feeling relieved after confirming that Yuigahama is not doing anything underhanded, I become much more tense instead.

 _An unsightly scene? What was that all about?_

No, that's not what I'm supposed to think about. Rather, why is there something different happening this time? As far as I can remember during the previous loops, there is no such thing as an incident happening while we walked on the way to the pub.

 _It can't be... Does my meddling caused an unforeseen event to occur?_

"Er, you see..." Yuigahama trails off before continuing, "while we're on the way here, we heard someone shout so suddenly. It was like _'waaaaa!'_ but after I look, there's only a minivan running away! It was so freaky! Almost like those kidnapping scenes you see on TV!"

Holding my breath, I throw a questioning glance at Yukinoshita.

"I'm not sure," she shakes her head and nods at Hayama's direction. "And neither of us except Hayama-kun is. It was so sudden, and it just happened that he was the only one looking behind at the same time."

Setting aside my assumptions as to why Hayama is looking behind for later, I raise a brow at the other male in question.

"A street brawl," he grimaces slightly before shaking his head. "The minivan's just there coincidentally, nothing to worry about."

"Yeah yeah!" Yuigahama adds with renewed enthusiasm and starts to push Yukinoshita inside the pub. "No need to worry over nothing! So let's go in, alright? I'm really hungry!"

As Yukinoshita allows the other girl to maneuver her like a helpless trolley across the door, Hayama also comes in.

Surprisingly, Miura, who has only watched the whole exchange the whole time, stays at where she is even though Hayama already went inside. Of course, Hayama notices this and raises a brow — not at her, but at me. Miura takes a peek on the door, but since Hayama is on the side hidden from her eye, she ends up assuming that no one is there instead.

She lowers her head a little, biting her lip while turning her body stiffly to face mine. Then, she lets out a long, drawn breath and raises her head, her eyes connecting to mine and... for a single moment, I marvel as the usual blazing fires on her expression can't be seen.

"Hikio," she swallows visibly and continues, "thank you, and also..."

She walks past me and opens the door, leaving something that shouldn't have been heard as the crowd is too noisy outside.

"...sorry for being rude."

 **~※~**

After composing myself upon experiencing the sudden shift on Miura's attitude, I enter the pub. Unsurprisingly, I find Hayama leaning beside the entrance and is looking at me with incredulous eyes.

"What's Yumiko thanking you for?"

"Ahh, nothing important."

It would be a bit troublesome to let him know that I just divulged the career choice he was trying so hard to hide, so I decide to just keep that episode between myself and Miura. For sure, Miura is close enough to Yuigahama so there is the possibilty that this fact will reach the ears of my clubmates, but that's a matter for another time.

"Hayama-senpai?"

Isshiki's voice pulls me back, and I crane my neck to see her looking worriedly between me and Hayama, probably thinking that I am up to no good again... like always. Which is somewhat true, in some ways.

Hayama flinches at that and makes a conflicted face while looking between myself and Isshiki. For some obvious reasons, Miura is glancing worriedly at him too. But to my surprise, instead of teaming up with Isshiki and start calling Hayama too, she briefly nods at my direction — one that holds a genuine sign of understanding.

Miura leans toward Isshiki and hooks her arms with the flaxen haired girl, pulling her towards the other direction and away from us. That would honestly be a cute showcase of that "bond between girls" I always see from my female club mates, only disregarding the fact that Isshiki looks like she's about to faint under her upperclassman's clutches.

Shaking my head after seeing that very unusual scene, I look at Hayama again, finding him as he suits himself on a chair by the corner and heaving a relieved sigh. He nods at my direction as a gesture to come closer.

I'm really not happy to get all beckoned over by this guy, but since it seems like he has something important to tell me, I pull my feet and sit on the chair parallel to his. After leaning my back on the chair and making myself comfortable, I look at Hayama again.

"I'm guessing you have _some_ questions?"

He sighs and clears his throat, his face becoming a lot more serious. "Nevermind questions for now, I have something important to discuss."

"Let's hear it then."

Hayama leans back on his chair and glances outside. "Someone was following us on the way here, I saw him."

I widen my eyes, taken aback. But I manage to smooth it over with a sigh, "I see..."

Now that is very surprising. To think that Hayama actually saw him, and I didn't even got a chance to have a glance from the previous loops. Although perhaps, warning him about this beforehand allowed him to be a lot more cautious. Alright, well that's fine, at least we got a lead.

"You saw the face?"

"No, I can't. He had a hoodie on."

 _A male wearing a hoodie, noted._

"Why didn't you contact me? Didn't I tell you to—"

"That's my point," he cuts me off, showing troubled face. "The thing is... he suddenly disappeared."

 _Disappeared? Like Haruhi? What is this guy saying?_

"What? Like poof? Just like that?"

"Yeah, you can say that."

I ponder about it for a moment, then I add, "Maybe he noticed you were watching...?"

"I don't know..." The uncertainity in his tone makes it clear he is telling the truth. This guy is just as clueless as I am. "Though I'm sure I tried to be as subtle as possible."

"So what are you getting at?"

"It's a bit silly—"

He starts, but I cut him off. "I don't care. Go on."

With all this dying and time looping I already experienced twice, I'm starting to doubt just what _silly_ means like.

"Remember that minivan thing Yui talked about?" asks Hayama, glancing on the frolicking people subtly to make sure no one is listening.

"What of it?"

"Well..." he leans forward and continues in a whisper, "I lied."

I already know, so I'm not at all surprised. Despite of that nice guy mask he always wears, it's not really that difficult to see through him. But just for the sake of letting the conversation flow, I ask, quirking a brow, "What do you mean?"

"The truth is exactly just how Yui described it," he says with no hesitation then continues, "We heard someone shout, then a van came running past us.

"That was the exact moment when that guy disappeared," he adds.

I take a brief moment of silence, taking myself out realty and into my won world. This is the time when I need to use my head at max level, despite how much of a pain it is. The gears in my head start to roll, sending bits and pieces of information into an imaginary puzzle frame, connecting everything that makes sense to create a larger picture.

 _Someone shouting, a minivan raging past and a person suddenly disappearing..._

All of those information interlink into one possible conclusion.

"Abduction..."

I didn't fail to notice the slight grin Hayama made before his face turns serious again. "That's how it appeared to me— no, that's how it appeared to anyone who saw what happened. Good thing the girls failed to see it, since that's an abduction in broad daylight."

"So you're saying that someone might have kidnapped that suspicious person who followed you around?"

"I'm not sure, Hikigaya. But that's a possibilty."

"How come that's a possibilty? Who the hell would kidnap a—"

I stop midway, this time, it's in my own volition.

"Seems like you already grasped my point." Hayama grins again, not minding to wipe it off this time. "You know, your deduction skills can be pretty convenient sometimes. Share some, won't you?"

Ignoring that ego-triggering remark, I sputter, baffled, "Impossible... would she really...?"

"Then let me confirm this. Haruno saw right through you, didn't she?"

"As a matter of fact, she did. Splendidly, even."

"As expected..." he mumbles with a knowing smile, his eyes distant and looking at some far off place. Then, before I start to wonder just what is this guy spacing out for, he shakes his head and stares intently at me again. "Well that explains it."

"But would she really pull off such a thing? I mean, what the hell, kidnapping? She's not even sure if it's really him for goodness sake..."

His point makes sense. A lot of, even. But I just can't wrap my head around it. I mean, yes, Haruno can possibly do it, but that is not how I have known that woman. As far as I can tell, she is not hasty enough to make decisions this fast. For crying out loud, I just told her about this an hour ago — and not to mention I didn't even tell her everything directly, all she has are mere speculations!

"Don't compare Haruno to yourself, Hikigaya."

That is the thing that shakes me out of my thoughts. A very dumb and utterly irrelevant remark.

 _Who? Me? Comparing myself to that woman? What the hell, Hayama?_

"I am not—"

Completely ignoring me, he continues, "You are, although unconsciously. You should know that Haruno is never like you. She's tenfold times more capable. It's possible that she already knows by now who the suspect is."

After seemingly thinking about it for a second, he adds with a thoughtful look, "She would never work alone. Ah, no, rather she would never seek help directly. Instead, she would utilize someone into doing it. That's the way with Haruno, so you should know it's not entirely impossible for her to go as far as to order someone to kidnap a person who's stalking her sister."

 _Spot on. He's right. No way I could rebuke that._

"Not to mention that you even personally asked a favor out of her. Of course, she would certainly do something even if I'm the one who asks. But she would only be doing that with regards to her sister.

"However, no matter how many times you think of it... it was still _you_."

 _...all you have to do is to come running at me and say "please protect my future wife" and Onee-chan will do the rest._

For some reason, Haruno's words begins to echo inside my ears, causing my lips curve upward without myself realizing.

"Even though she already got wind that you have hidden intentions, did she even try to hinder you? She didn't, right? Don't you think that's a sign of Haruno putting her trust on you?"

Hayama asks with a challenging look and continues,

"If she really is behind this kidnapping thing, isn't that an obvious proof that she's doing all this to support your judgement?"

"You make it sound like she's putting too much credit on me..."

"Because she really is," he insists, and I wonder for a brief moment if that was jealousy I heard from his tone.

"Ugh..." I shake my head in resignation. "Well, if your assumption turns out to be right, at least we no longer have to worry about that bastard."

It might be hard to swallow, but I didn't expect that Haruno could be this helpful. I only asked her something about giving a ride, then she ends up being a mastermind behind a kidnapping instead. Really now, just how scary could that woman be?

"We can't be so sure, but we can hope at least," Hayama nods and raises a brow, "Oh by the way, how did it go with her?"

"She complied. Around seven, she'll drop by and pick Yukinoshita up."

"I see."

After that, we both succumb to silence. If I will be honest here, I actually find it refreshing being able to work with Hayama. Er, well... excluding the fact that saving Yukinoshita's life is the one we are working at. Come to think of it, maybe it's also the first time we teamed up together. That time in Kyoto doesn't count, of course, since he only just told me his intentions and it's myself who did all the work.

Not to mention that the result, although acceptable, ended up being catastrophic...

I shudder at the thought, remembering the dispute that incident caused on the Service Club. It might be stupid but... time travel? Yeah, I can handle that — just spare me from having another fight with my club mates. After all, I'm doing all this crazy things for their sake. Yukinoshita is a vital part of the club, and losing her would be... problematic, in a way.

A part of me wants to save her, of course, I won't deny that — but I am mostly doing this for the club, since I don't want to see Yuigahama sad (and while I'm at it, let's throw in Isshiki too).

Those are my reasons, the motivation that keeps me from moving.

 _I'm doing for the club, and that's undeniably true..._

But still, why do I feel like I'm lying to myself while saying that?

 **~※~**

It has been almost an hour since the party started. So far, nothing remarkably unusual happened. Everything is still safe in line, and it's nice too see that my choice to not attend the marathon didn't affect the flow of things too much.

Sitting on the same spot where I talk with Hayama, I try to take a sip from my drink, only to find the glass empty. Sighing, I stand up, when—

"Here."

Hayama comes back with a glass of something in his outstretched hand. _Exactly like last time_ , I note, smirking to myself.

"Hayama... would you mind if I ask for another favor?"

"Well... if it's something I can do without any hassle, why not? After all, I'm currently owing you a lot just for looking out after Yukinoshita-san."

 _You owe me for looking out for her, huh..._

Setting that aside, I clarify, "Hmm, speaking of which, my favor is also about her."

"Okay?" he raises a brow "What is it then?"

"You're on good terms with her parents, I assume?"

His brow raises even further. "In a way, yes. What about it?"

"I was thinking of asking Haruno if it's possible for Yukinoshita to get a bodyguard, or anyone that can ensure her safety—"

"You know it's possible, why didn't you ask?" he cuts me off, rubbing his temple, almost looking frustrated. "I'm sure she'd approve of it... er, well, especially since it's you."

 _This 'since it's you' is really getting on my nerves now._

"That's my point here. She'd approve, I have no doubts about that. But I'm sure this kind of decision is not the type that Haruno gets to approve alone. She would need her parent's permission first, right? And... asking permission also leads to her needing to tell this whole damsel in distress story. Which, I'm sure... will also lead to me being dragged in."

"So you're saying that you don't want to be involved with the Yukinoshitas?" Hayama asks while squinting his eyes, his tone sounding a bit cross.

"Somehow, I feel that way."

Despite my hesitation, I end up admitting it, causing Hayama to breath out a disappointed sigh, much to my bewilderment.

Shaking my head and letting that slide, I continue with a much firmer tone, "But I'm not choosing that option as a coward way out. I'm simply balancing my choices here."

"What choices?"

"Well, in a way... I don't want to be involved, but at the same time... I want to ensure Yukinoshita's safety. But wanting that means I need to butt myself in, and knowing Haruno... she would probably try to do so even if I don't want to. You know that woman's search for amusement knows no bounds."

He nods gravely. "So what's that got to do about your favor?"

"I'm getting there. You said you saw 'him', right?"

In response, he nods again.

"If possible... I want you to act as a witness to back up Haruno's request for getting Yukinoshita a bodyguard. With you being on good terms with them, I'm guessing that won't be a problem?"

Another nod from him, though this time, his expression turns cautious, seemingly getting a grasp of where I will going at.

"It won't," Hayama confirms after staying silent for a moment. "But why me? You're the one who is doing all the hard work, isn't it only fair for you to make the request instead?"

It is fair, but fairness is not what I am aiming for here.

"Look here, Hayama. As annoying as it is, in the eyes of Yukinoshita's parents— no wait, screw that— in the eyes of everyone... you're much more decent compared to me. I really want to avoid getting ask by troublesome questions about my reasons for knowing that a daughter of some diet representative is on danger, or anything. I'm already suspicious as it is, so please, spare me from being labeled as an even shadier character.

"And besides, Yukinoshita mentioned that you two were childhood pals, so isn't it only fitting for you to be the one to look out for her instead? Just tell them that you personally saw the suspect himself... create an alibi, maybe? Say you think that was probably a stalker, or something... do whatever you want... and while I'm at it, maybe I'll try convincing Haruno to keep me out as well. Er, assuming that she really is behind this 'minivan' incident."

"You have a point, Hikigaya, I can't deny that..." he trails off and looks at me with a confused expression. "But are you aware that by making me do this, you're giving all the credit to me instead?"

Swallowing hard, I offer a nod, "I am, and I don't really care about credits and whatnot. Take all the nice guy points all you want, I don't really mind."

Just why am I sounding like a goddamn tsundere?

"I don't understand. Why would you go as far as this and just drop it like nothing?" Hayama presses, and he stares at me, evidently confused by my actions. _Heh, I can't blame him. Somehow... I feel confused too._

"I have my reasons. And getting damn praises is well off my radar. Look, if you're worried that this might bite you back, then don't worry. Take in the cheers and praises if Yukinoshita makes it out alive..."

Hayama winces at that remark, and I smooth it over by continuing, "But if by chance something unexpected happens, you're free to turn your back and leave everything out to me. I'll take all the blame. After all, it was all my decision... so if someone gets in trouble, it's no one else's fault but me."

 _Wow, it seemes like I was spouting some pretty cool lines just now. But for Hayama, who is sporting a grimace the whole time... well, maybe it wasn't so cool._

"Alright... I'll do it. But just so you know, I'm not happy with this setup."

"Everyone's not happy with everything. Thank you."

"No, thank you..." he throw my words back. "For looking after her."

"Someone has to, or else..."

 _...she will end up with a bloody hole in her head. And that 'bloody' is not my way of trying to sound all Brit. I mean it in a literal sense, got it?_

Hayama tilts his head and waits for me to continue. "No, it's nothing," I say.

In response, he suddenly remark, "You know what, I think Yukinoshita-san is very lucky."

 _This guy really has a knack for spouting irrelevant things._

"Funny. I was just mulling about the opposite."

That catches him off guard, causing an unwilling snicker to come out from him. _Whoa, I never thought a person who finds my dark humors funny even exists..._ "Really, I'm not kidding. Disregarding the fact that she's in danger, I think she's still pretty fortunate."

"What? Because her sister is willing to act all yakuza for her sake?"

He completely laughs out loud at that, gathering everyone's attention. "Oh, my bad..." he scratches the back of his head sheepishly and bows, prompting the others to go back from partying, not after sending him confused looks.

"W-well aside from that..." he clears his throat, embarrassed, "it's because of you as well. Take a look at this; you're trying your best to keep her safe... you even asked me for help even though we're not exactly on good terms. And in the end, regardless of the outcome..."

Now back to his original self, he whispers in a rather mocking tone.

"...you won't say a word about all of what you've done, right."

"She's better off not knowing," I state without any hesitation at all

"Even so, are you really fine with that?"

"...I'm fine with anything as long as she's okay."

Hayama lets out a gasp while drinking, causing himself to choke.

I narrow my eyes. "...what?"

"Oh, nothing..." he says with a smile — a disturbingly genuine one. "Just a bit surprised... and glad."

 **~※~**

How do demons make their dramatic entrances again?

Lightnings? Black smokes? Creepy piano themes?

No, I don't think so, this is not Overlord, after all.

In reality, or should I say – in my instance, they will arrive at exactly seven in the evening, carried by a limousine. Then, they will push the entrance door with two hands, looking like some kind of a badass character on a western movie – only did they wear an elegant coat, instead of a cowboy hat.

At the very least, only the stillness in the air will remain as the cliche description.

"My, this place sure looks lively."

The demon – or should I say, Haruno, describes the whole scene in an ironic fashion, while grinning deviously among us.

"...nee-san."

Of course, there is only one person capable of uttering a word despite of the tense atmosphere.

"Yukino-chan!"

While clapping her hands together after catching sight of her bewildered sister, Haruno chirps, "Good evening! How's the party going? Oh well, nevermind that for now. Let's talk about something for a moment, alright?"

And just like that, not even giving a sideways glance to the people stupefied by her arrival, (including myself) she slithers toward Yukinoshita and takes her sister's hand.

 _Er... I mean, literally. Don't get the wrong idea._

"W-what... why are you—"

Contrastive to her intimidating presence, it appears that Haruno's grip to her sister's hand is very gentle, holding as if she's carrying something fragile. It also didn't misses my eye to notice how Yukinoshita's fingers intertwine with her sister's reflexively – almost as if she's doing it out of habit.

If not for the current situation, I would have admired that display of subtle affection just a little bit.

As if finally acknowledging the stares of everyone around around her, Haruno's face twisted from grinning to frowning, then...

"Oh! Where are my manners? Looks like I come out as a gate crasher this time~ ahh, how embarassing!"

She squirms and wriggles her body in a rather... indecent fashion, still holding Yukinoshita's hand. This woman is probably thinking that acting all moe could get her out of this unscathed – which worked out, unexpectedly, because the tense looks revert into awkward glances.

Although I am sure it's not the _cuteness_ that helped her the most, considering her age and body—

Anyway, with the atmosphere being not as thick as before, someone is now able to react.

"No, it's quite alright... Haruno-san," reassures Hayama, standing from his seat and offering a welcome smile with his goodie-two-shoes face. Which is a bad move on his part, I must say.

"You don't seem surprised at all, Hayato." Taking glances between myself and Hayama, Haruno's face forms a grin again. Hayama, to his credit, decides to put on his mask and stares at her head on with faux confusion.

As for myself, since pretending to be asleep won't work here, I commence a staring battle with my empty glass instead.

"Well, whatever," Haruno dismisses, and both myself and the blonde beside me heave quiet sighs of relief.

"Well then! Yukino-chan? Talk? Shall we? Just outside will do."

Yukinoshita having caught herself once again, starts to retaliate with an anxious look. "Where is this coming from? Is mother—"

"Mom has got nothing to do with this."

Her sister cuts her off with a wave of her hand, her gaze slowly drifting towards my direction, "Although, it involves a... certain someone, who cares so much about you."

Yukinoshita followes her line of sight, which, of course, ends to... me. The long-haired girl offers a series of confused blinks before opening her mouth without uttering a word.

I swallow hard, thinking of different reasons as to why would Haruno sell me out. Then, indifferent to the not-so-subtle glare I am giving her, Haruno speaks, "Hikigaya-kun, care to have a talk with me as well? It won't be long."

Having nothing else to say, "...er, sure," I leave my seat after shrugging at Hayama's questioning glance. I walk towards the pair of Yukinoshitas, nodding at the younger one and sending a cautious glance to the other.

But even before I could join the two, "Um, w-wait, Hikki!" Yuigahama's urgent tone prompts me to stop, resisting the urge to palm my face for forgetting about the girl.

I raise my hand to offer an apology – but Haruno has beaten me to it. "Oh, Gahama-chan! I'm sorry, but I have to borrow Hikki for a while. Don't you worry though, I won't take him home!"

Being the gentleman I am, I pretend to not hear anything.

"No... how about, um, Yukinon?" Yuigahama, not even minding the teasing directed to her, asks about Yukinoshita instead. The power of friendship is superb, indeed! Well, not that I know anything about it.

"Yukino-chan, huh?" Haruno raises a brow. "Well, sorries again, but she's on a different discussion. You see, I'll be taking my little sister home."

"O-oh..."

"Hm, do you have any problems about that?" Haruno grin slips for a second before coming back again, this time with a newfound glint. "I hope you don't – I'm her nee-san, after all!"

Only I am able to decipher the meaning behind that last sentence: _Mind your own business._

Yuigahama, being the airhead she is, fails to catch the subtle message and persists, "N-no, I don't – I mean... can I, say goodbye... at least?"

"Ah, don't bother yourself. I'll tell her for you." Haruno gives her a straightforward dismissal before looking away, prompting the poor girl to flinch back due to her bluntness.

Feeling sorry, I offer a sympathetic nod towards Yuigahama's direction, seeing her trying to open her mouth to protest something – only to clamp it shut with a look of astonishment, just at the same time I feel something soft embracing my arm.

My eyes look down, witnessing as my lucky— I mean, poor arm is tangled in a pair of slender arms I assume to be Haruno's, clinging to me the same way how Miura clung to Isshiki earlier. It's not a big deal, actually, except for the fact that I can feel her... um, boobs, pressing against me.

Being the gentleman I am, I pretend to not notice anything.

"Okay! Let's be off then, Hikigaya-kun."

Feeling a little distracted by the sensation, I let myself get dragged like a marionette outside the pub.

"...nee-san, what is this all about?" Yukinoshita's voice pulls me back from my own world, sending me a disgusted glare after seeing her sister's arms in mine.

 _Hey! I'm the one being violated here!_

"About you my adorable little sister," Haruno says coolly, nodding towards the slick, black limousine parked in front of us. "Now, inside the car you go."

Taken aback for a second, Yukinoshita sighs and presses a finger on her forehead. "I will not do anything unless you explain everything to me. I already had enough of your games, nee-san..."

"How cold. Say, is that really a way to speak to someone who cares about you?"

"...huh?" Yukinoshita lets out a dumbfounded sound, stiffening as her cheeks flush slightly. "F-fine, whatever," she manages to eke out with a cough, striding towards the pub's entrance. "Just allow me to send my regards to Yuigahama-san."

"No need, she asked me to say goodbye to you." Her sister's offhand remark causes Yukinoshita to stop her hand on touching the knob. Then, Haruno continues, "Really now, that Gahama-chan. Sending my little sis off just like that?"

"S-she's probably just... distracted," mumbles Yukinoshita, her head bowing.

Not minding her sister's downcast look, Haruno continues, even speaking in a mocking tone, "Distracted having fun with her friends? Hm, okay, I get it."

I almost want to kick this woman as she nods her head in faux understanding. She already knows we got a very serious matter at hand here – and she can still play a nasty trick like that? What the hell is up with her?

Almost reflexively, my head formed a lie to contradict Haruno, but I stop myself. I really want to avoid lying as much as possible – after all, I'm now feeling guilty as it is.

But how could I expect myself to not say anything when some nasty "onee-chan" is jeopardizing the friendship of my club mates in front of my face? Add to the fact that it's the same "onee-chan" whom I thanked for not being so twisted. Hell, I said she's not as twisted as I made her up to be – but, without a doubt, this woman still is. Twisted enough to play with her sister's emotions while she's on mortal danger.

There's no way I would let Haruno have her way.

"Miura has something rather... urgent to do, so you know, Yuigahama volunteers to help," I say, cuing Yukinoshita to look up and face me. Then, I flash a gentle smile, "She said she's sorry she can't send you off, though."

Yukinoshita smiles back and sighs at relief at that, nodding as she walks away from the door and into the parked car. Behind her, I didn't fail to notice as Haruno's smile twists into something I can't describe, and I frown in return.

"I see, well, I'll be off then, Hikigaya-kun. Please tell Yuigahama-san I say goodbye to her."

"Sure thing," I nod as Yukinoshita pulls the car's door open, stopping to raise a brow at her sister, who hasn't moved an inch from where she is standing.

Haruno waves at Yukinoshita and jerks her chin at me. "Give me a minute, I'll just talk with Hikigaya-kun for a bit."

Yukinoshita, although looking doubful, just nods to the both of us and closes the door.

As if on cue, Haruno claps her hands and hops to face my direction – smiling at me in a way I can only describe as 'overly cheerful'.

"So! I'll make this quick and easy. All you have to do is give me a straight, honest answer. And since I already abided to your request, I want it to be as honest as possible, alright? Take it as your payback for the favor."

Having no rebukes at that, I agree, "Alright."

"Do you consider yourself a normal person?"

Not expecting that kind of question, I end up stumbling back a few steps away, my eyes widening in shock. Alright, this might be a bit overreacted, but you can't blame me. Try dying two times and go back in time – then put yourself in my position, I'm sure you'd end up the same.

After heaving a deep breath to compose myself, I trudge back to my previous position. I hate to admit, but that's kind of embarassing... and horrifying, too. Just try to imagine Haruno knowing about this time-looping scenario I have gotten myself into.

I shudder at the thought.

"Well..." I trail off, considering my choice of words carefully. "Some... strange things recently made me doubt if I really am."

Haruno's follow up question is steadfast, as if she already expected me to answer that way. "So, you're saying you don't consider yourself as normal?"

"N-no... I'm not saying that," I start, but I stop, remembering my social status in school. "Er, although, in a way, maybe, I really am not..."

Aside from dying two times and going back in time, I'm already not normal to begin with.

Haruno seems to pick up what I'm implying and snickers. "Trust me on this, Hikigaya-kun..." she stops, walking to my direction and leaning close to my ear. "You are not."

I wince at that, not because her tone is a bit loud for my ears to bear – but because she's close! Too close!

 _And don't whisper to my ears, damn it!_

But instead of backing away, she scoots closer and fixes the collar of my school uniform, smiling warmly, "But you're more interesting that way, so don't change."

"Yeah, whatever..." Not able to bear her touchy-mode anymore, I pull myself from her grasp and back away. She looks surprised for second and giggles, flashing a victory sign at me.

 _Okay, that was cute. Let me give her that._

To change the subject, I pose the question I have been itching to ask from the start, "Say, have you heard of a kidnapping nearby?"

Her answer is so smooth I almost doubted if she rehearsed this earlier. "Nope. Never heard of it."

"You sure?"

"Of course!" she huffs indignantly, then smiles – a smile that doesn't hides anything, even malice. "After all, I was busy the whole afternoon doing some... important things."

"Does that include ordering someone to forcibly drag a random person inside a minivan?"

That does it. She puffs her cheeks at first, placing both her hands on her mouth as if on a choking fit. Then, as if not able to suppress it anymore, she bends forward and starts to laugh, hugging her stomach in her arms.

Although, contrary to my expectations, her laugh sounds more like that of a fine lady – very feminine.

I was kind of expecting something like an evil laugh... but, oh well, maybe I'm just watching too much anime these days.

"W-what 'random person' you're saying?" she squezzes out between snickers. "Oh god, Hikigaya-kun, you crack me up!"

"You mean..." I mumble, taken aback.

Seemingly composing herself, she flashes a very triumphant smile, "Yep! Not random at all!" Then, she smiles again, this time, a more genuine one.

"So you can breath now – everything's been taken care of."

Without knowing, I let myself smile. How long have I been wanting to hear someone say that. Adding all of the previous loops together, it has already been a complete three days – and for them, the others, it's just a single day.

I haven't noticed it, since my eyes are dead set on the goal I'm trying to accomplish... but I'm already tired – exhausted, both physically and mentally. I know it's not wise to feel relieved from such reassurance, but I can't help it.

Even though I know it's not the most right thing to do, just for now... I'll let myself be reassured by Haruno's words.

"You've done well, Hikigaya-kun, and based on what I've seen this afternoon... it appears that soon, you'll be doing more."

"What do you mean—"

I was perturbed by the last thing she said, but I'm distracted by her clasping her hands and smiling sweetly – a gesture I never expect someone like Haruno to do. "But anyway, don't you think you deserve my appreciation, at least?"

"I... I don't really mind."

 _Unless you'd be willing to pay me in cash, though._

"You silly, of course you do," she moves closer, and before I could back away, she's already in front of me, her hand stretched towards my face.

 _Oh, my sweet angel Totsuka, please take me away from the devil's clutches!_

"So... thank you, Hikigaya-kun."

But instead of experiencing something that will mark my point of being a man, I wince as I feel a gentle pressure placed atop my head.

In confusion, I raise my gaze, only to awkwardly look down again upon realizing that I'm having my head patted.

 _By Yukinoshita Haruno, of all people!_

But aside from the slight embarrassment of being granted this treatment in broad daylight— wait, it's night, so... moonlight? Whatever, instead of wanting to dig a hole to bury myself on, I feel a weird, fuzzy feeling coursing through my chest upon recalling the expression Haruno has when I looked up just now.

She has a warm and content look on her face, something I rarely see from my mother when I show her my Modern Japanese grades.

And, because of that, I find myself enjoying the sensation. After all, it won't hurt to have your efforts be appreciated, right? Despite of all other things, I can be content with just this.

From someone like Haruno, this reward is already fulfilling.

After a good moment of rubbing my head and tousling my hair, Haruno pulls her hand back and opens the limousine's door, revealing an impatient looking Yukinoshita inside. At first, she stares at me absently, then, as if noticing something, she raises her arm and points at my face. "What happened to your hair?"

In panic, I start to comb my hair in order with my hand, mumbling incoherent words, "Uh, I just... uh..."

"Too windy!" Haruno answers in my behalf. "Hikigaya-kun's hair is too soft it sways with the wind!'

Yukinoshita nods suspiciously, but lets it slide – and I realize for a brief stunned moment that she can actually see from the inside!

Saving me from the shame of being asked by troublesome questions by her younger sister, Haruno enters the car, and after the both of them waved goodbye, the limousine drives away.

I watch as the vehicle moves forward in a steady pace, when...

"...a headpat from Haruno?" a voice mumbles behind me.

Startled for a second, I snap behind, huffing an annoyed sigh as Hayama stares at me with disbelieving eyes. "I can take that unexpected 'thank you' from Yumiko, but this..." he sighs and rubs his forehead. "This day can't get any wierder—"

Suddenly, he stops.

As if jinxed, a loud noise can be heard not so far from where we stand.

However, although it's not on the same sound as a gunshot, that noise is more unsettling. Because rather than a reverberating hollow sound, that was more of an explosion.

Before I knew it, I am already running, and somewhere behind me, I hear as Hayama does the same too.

A lot of people must have heard it; the shop customers and other present pedestrians are also coming to take a look, albeit with less urgency as the pair of us.

Turning a corner, I double back as my stomach suddenly lurches.

The smell of something burning reaches my nose...

—and that is because, in front of us, something actually is.

"Holy shit..."

Hayama's curse completely matches the words inside my head.

And that is because, what is in front of us is a very familiar looking limousine...

—half of it crushed under a very familiar looking truck.

* * *

 **Note: Nothing much to say here, except for saying thank you for all the support. I'd be trying to answer the reviews via PM now, so if you have some questions that haven't been regarded in this note, you can remind me to answer them via PM. And uh, yours truly tried to draw a cover. Hope you like it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Except for Truck-san, I do not own anything.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

* * *

Everything is warbled, and the whole moment is swimming underwater. Even though I'm running as fast as I can, every step I take feels like an eternity. It's almost as if the air has become thick enough that it made moving extremely hard.

I can't breathe. There's smoke and fire and despair all over the place. I'm in the middle of it, trying my very best to open the crushed door of this upside down limousine. Yukinoshita and Haruno are inside and probably dying, and I need to get them out of there, fast.

Two hands on the rail, breath in and pull. A surge of pain sears through one of my hand. I take a quick look and there is a shard of glass stuck into it. Lots of blood, but no pain at all. Just fear. I suddenly became numb of physical pain. Rush of adrenaline? Who the hell cares? I can only think of one thing.

 _Please be alive._

I keep pulling. God knows how valuable each second is. Each tick of the clock is equivalent to the life slowly being taken away from the people inside. I'm too damn weak to pull this door with sheer force, yet I keep pulling. The shard of glass stuck in my hand sinks deeper, but I'm too fucking distracted to even care.

My hands slips off the handle, and I realize it's dripping wet. More blood. That wound can go to hell for all I care. It's useless; I keep pulling but nothing happens. Finally, I decide to just bash the broken window with my bare hand, it's too damaged anyway. The sound of glass breaking rings out, and just like magic, the window's open.

I slide my hand inside and unlock the door. Thanks to gravity and the vehicle being upside down, the door easily falls over. I mock myself for a moment for being so stupid. I should've tried doing that first instead of pulling mindlessly. Careful not to injure myself any further, I peek my head inside. It's too dark in here.

"...Hikigaya-kun? Is that you?"

To both my relief and disappointment, a feeble voice calls out to me. It's Haruno.

"Yes, it's me. Can you move?"

A seat is toppled over and is blocking my path, so apart from peeking inside the destroyed limousine, there's nothing else I can do. Flames are dancing outside, but it's still too dark in here. I squint my eyes until my vision adjusts.

Haruno lies against the window. There are bruises on her face and smears of blood – I'm not sure if it's hers, so I ask, "Where's Yukinoshita?"

"Here." Haruno looks straight into my eyes; emotionless, cold and blank. She jerks her chin to her left and I follow its direction. Haruno is holding something— no, someone. There's a hand interlinked with hers, but that's all. It's just an arm, and nothing else. "Yukino-chan's now a bloody mess." I notice her hand squeezing the severed limb. "All that's left is this."

Half of the limousine is crushed by a truck. The front part of the vehicle is a wreck; like a flattened can of coffee. The arm Haruno is holding is coming from the destroyed portion. It has the same sleeve of the black blazer of the school. There are lots of blood in it, and it's continuously dripping.

I recall quickly; Yukinoshita entered the car first, so its likely that she was the one sitting closest to the driver's seat. The truck crushed the front portion of the limousine, so there's only one explanation: Yukinoshita's body is crushed under the truck, and all that is left undamaged is her arm.

I can't even begin to imagine what she looks like right now.

I take a deep breath and shake my head, stopping it from imagining gruesome images. Save that for later, someone else needs my help. "Let's get you out of here." I extend a hand to Haruno's direction. "Come on."

"Thanks, but no." Haruno bats my hand away and I suddenly feel the pain on my wounds. "I'd rather stay with Yukino-chan, here."

"This is not a time for your jokes—"

"Oh, I'm not the least bit kidding. I'm actually very serious here, Hikigaya-kun. Really serious."

Haruno's face is visible, even in the dark. She's staring at me solemnly, looking like acting her usual lunatic self is not in her priorities. In a situation like this, all while being beside her literally flattened sister, Haruno looks composed – and that's so frightening.

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"Change of subject." She coughs amidst the thick cloud of smoke enveloping us. We really should get out of here, now. "You seem to be taking this so well, Hikigaya-kun."

Not just irritated, I am genuinely angry now. Angry at myself for being so optimistic, at Haruno for being such a bitch, at Yukinoshita for being too damn unlucky, at this truck – at everything. I'm getting sick of this. Goddamn sick of this.

Throwing caution to the wind, I stand up and kick the seat blocking my way, sending it flying to who knows where. I crouch down and enter the now suffocating interior of the limousine. Haruno is lying on the same spot, coughing and still holding onto Yukinoshita's hand.

"I'm not." I snatch her arm, glaring at her. "I'm actually very messed up inside. So sad, so angry I can't even process what I'm thinking straight. I'm sure any moment now I'll be losing my grip." I pull on her. "But before that happens, I want to make sure you're out of here."

It's becoming so hot and unbearably hard to breathe. I hope Hayama called an ambulance while I'm in here. My right hand is bleeding nonstop, and I'm going to need lots of bandages. I ball my injured hand and slid it inside my coat, pulling at Haruno with the other. "So, move and let's get out of here."

But to hell with everything, Haruno doesn't even budge.

"No, Hikigaya-kun."

"Goddamnit, Haruno." I am seething with pent up rage; quarter of it coming from exhaustion, and the rest from sheer frustration. If not for my hands being injured and occupied, I would have slapped this woman back and forth. "...Goddamnit."

Sighing deeply, I let myself fall and lean against the seat I kicked over. It's useless. Nothing will work this time. I'm done for because that's what it should have been since the beginning. Haruno's role will end miserably because of her stubbornness. I don't even want to start with Yukinoshita; it seems like this particular day just hates her so much.

Haruno clicks her tongue. "Well, goddamn you too." I don't understand, but her tone is angry now, as well. "Just who do you think you are, asking me to leave my sister behind?"

Sighing again, I send a look at the severed arm Haruno is holding. "Haruno, Yukinoshita is—"

"Already dead. Yes, I'm aware of that." After breathing deeply, she nods. "But take a look at this."

She lifts her arm, the one holding Yukinoshita's hand. The other limb raises too, making a series of nasty crunching noises by each move. I try to disregard the horrendeous appearance of it and narrow my eyes, scrutinizing for anything worth noticing.

Then, widening my eyes, I realize what Haruno is implying.

"Yukino-chan's holding me— before and after she died."

Haruno spreads her fingers open, no longer supporting the severed arm. Without anything to hold onto it, the body part should have fallen, but it didn't. That's because Haruno is not holding it – it's the opposite.

Yukinoshita's hand is holding onto Haruno's.

"How can you expect me to let go, Hikigaya, when my sister whom I love the most is holding me like this?"

Haruno looks away from me and stares at the crushed portion where the rest of what's left of Yukinoshita's body is probably under. Haruno sniffs, and just when I thought that the smoke is now affecting her lungs too much, she sniffs again – I look, and I see it, with my own two eyes.

One of the people I fear the most – Yukinoshita Haruno – is crying.

"...I'd rather die here with her than leave her like this."

My jaw drops, and I stare at her, unbelieving.

Even though it gave me goosebumps, and even though it wrenches my heart, I try to picture myself on Haruno's role, holding my little sister's severed hand. It makes me want to puke, but I bear it just so I can understand how it feels.

I look at Haruno, scathed physically and emotionally, I look at Yukinoshita's hand, clutching at her sister despite being dead, then I picture Komachi's grinning face, calling me with degrading nicknames.

I swallow hard, and just like that, I'm in the same view as her. Everything blurs, and before I know it, there are now two people sobbing mutely inside the car. Knock on wood, but if I'll ever be so unfortunate as to be on the same situation as her, I'm sure I would do the same.

This is not mere idiocy or stubbornness. It's the curse our little sister's have inflicted upon both of us. A curse we humbly accepted ever since they were born.

The startling smell of gasoline reaches my nose. Bad omen. There's fire outside, and gasoline is it's ever destructive acquaintance. I reposition myself on crouching on all fours, kick the door open, and send a last look to Haruno. " ...I think this car's about to blow up." My voice is pleading, and so is the look on my face. "You're not really changing your mind?"

Haruno sighs, and smiles. "No."

"...I'm sorry." To apologize is the only thing I'm capable of doing. Yukinoshita died because of my incompetence. Now, Haruno will die because of my faulty schemes. I get out of the car, still crouching. I'm amazed of how fresh the air is outside despite being full of smoke. I look at the door again. Haruno's out of view, but I still utter "I'm sorry" one last time.

"Hikigaya-kun?" I'm supposed to start walking away before Haruno calls me. A spark of hope lights up, and I crouch again, ready for Haruno to say she has changed her mind. I respond by calling her back, but instead of what I expected, she said something different. "Is this what you meant by 'I can't guarantee'?"

I rack my brain, but I can't remember saying something like that. "What?"

"Nevermind. But promise me one thing, please." Haruno's voice is muffled, so I can't hear it clearly. "If you ever decide to go back..." Ambulance sirens ring out, and I poke my head inside the car again. Haruno is looking at me gently, despite of our situation. I'm intrigued beyond compare. "If not me, please save her."

Someone takes hold of my arm and drags me away. "Damn it, Hikigaya—" I turn back instantly and punched whoever that was on the face. The smoke is thickening. I run back towards the car. Haruno is peeking, staring straight at me, and shouts:

"Please, go back and save Yukino-chan!"

There's a huge spark, and a burst of flame, but I didn't even flinch. It all comes in slow motion. The way of fire, like a flaming snake, slowly slithers into my direction. It's path follows the endpoint beside me, where the smell of destruction comes from. The limousine's gas tank is leaking, and as if by some fucked up fate, fire touches the puddle.

A person is lying unconscious beside my feet, and there's a bruise on his face. It's Hayama; sprawled over on the pavement like a corpse. Nothing can be done. It's not like I will even to attempt to run into safety, but even if I do, I no longer have enough strength to carry him.

 _Stupid, I shouldn't have punched him._

Hayama, alongside myself, Haruno, and Yukinoshita's crushed body, will burn and explode to pieces.

"Hikki! Get out of there!" Yuigahama's voice calls, and I make out her silhouette somewhere far away, safe from the impending doom. I raise my hand and wave at her in a desperate attempt to say goodbye, but I stop as something incredibly strange catches my eye.

The truck's door opens, and someone jumps out. Amidst the thick smoke obstructing my eye, all I can see is a running shadow – on its head are twin braids. I'm half-intrigued and half-dumbfounded, but even before I could start to question myself—

Everything explodes.

 **~※~**

 _As my consciousness fades, my mind swimming in the sea of swirling glass shards that has erupted, turning all my thoughts and all my feelings to ash, I feel a familiar sense of dread. The creeping hand of death rises from the cavernous hell hole, where severed arms and crushed bodies spring from black hollows, adding horror to the picture of death._

 _I hear the soft moaning of the people who suffered because of me, the already dead and still dying, and if I hold my breath for long, I can almost recognize the voices._

 _The creeping hand of death is outstretched, and I see as its slender little fingers grapple at bare air, joints locking while the bone white arm is overtaken by a fit of spasms._

 _I could have sworn I saw it._

 _Behind the thick veil of smoke, dangling at the end of Yukinoshita's drooping fingertips, a pair of twin braids is swinging._

 _I am both sure and unsure what that means, even in hindsight. The agonized crying has warped inside my head, and it's incredibly hard to think straight, much less try to remember. All the sound is varying from a cacophony of low moans, clashing with the reverberating echo of ear-splitting screams. I feel like a chess piece knocked on board, and now I can only sit in the bone chilling misery, staring up as a higher player capture all the remaining pieces._

 _Everything turns black, and all existence vanish. I am all alone, sent into a place where I will be forced to spend eternity lamenting over the faults and mistakes I made._

 _But suddenly, everything changes._

 _From steady emptiness, everything swirls, pushing everything in a raging black hole in the middle like a rampaging whirlpool. I'm being sucked in, and my body, being lifeless and limp, can't offer any resistance at all._

 _I let myself fall, waiting for the impact, but nothing happens._

 _As if suspended in mid air, the whole world stops._

 **~※~**

My consciousness awakens with a jolt, and I'm startled as it's a pitch blackness who greeted me. It's dark, and I can't see anything. But later, as if by late realization, I find out that this darkness is of my own creation.

And so, I open my eyes.

A familiar ceiling comes to view.

It's a sight I have come used to seeing, not only on those times when I wake up every morning, but also at situations like this. The fact that I can see it proves that my eyes are in proper working order. And the fact that my eyes are still functioning means that I'm alive.

"...I'm back."

I think it's more appropriate to say "I died again" but mocking myself at this state would be of no use. I breath in, making sure that the air reach my lungs before breathing out. I'm alive, and I can see, breath and think. Everything is so surreal it's frightening.

I'm scared, and screaming will be nice. Yes, screaming will be fantastic. If I remember correctly, no one will be at home besides myself at this time, so if I scream out at the top of my lungs right now, no one will complain.

But instead of screaming, I let out a sigh. Exhaustion washes over me so suddenly I can't even muster enough energy to do so. I feel like a breathing corpse; rotting, but still functioning.

Without anything else to do, I begin to stare at the ceiling. Across the bland white tile, like a projector, flashes a series of images. It's like watching my memories in a cinema. I'm sitting all alone in the front row, hands and feet cuffed to prevent me from escaping, and a pair of hands is pointing my head to forcibly look at the screen.

My memories are a collection of horror clips, stories and scenes that send children crying and thrashing at night. I thought it's possible to escape from all this by closing my eyes, but doing so only intensifies the effect, so I have no other choice but let myself be tortured.

Yukinoshita is crushed by a truck, Haruno chose to let herself burn beside her sister, and I indirectly killed Hayama. I have good intentions at heart, but I ended up leading three people who cared about each other to death.

How can fate be so cruel?

Now, I'm here, and about to do everything to save Yukinoshita – once again. Why am I even bothering to begin with? I don't know. I'm just sure that I'm willing to repeat this hell over and over again until I get it right. And if I can't, I don't know, too. I'll just see if my mind is still sane enough to think so I could force myself to back out.

For now, I'll keep on trying. What is the point of allowing me to restart over and over again if everything only falls at the very same pitfall? It's so I can find the mines and traps to avoid. I'll keep failing and dying and killing people due to my own stupidity, and after all that I'll fail again until I learn my lesson in the end.

Think, struggle, stumble and worry; without those, it's not genuine. I have to go through all this hardships in order to achieve the ending I wanted. I need to face all this, mold my motivation and keep going forward until I no longer have anything to walk into.

For the Service Club I dear the most – I will once again conquer this January eleven, and save Yukinoshita.

* * *

 **Note** : I want to say I shortened this chapter in order to balance out with the previous 15k post, but that would be a dirty, obvious lie. I didn't set out to actually shorten anything. I tried my best to extend a few scenes though, but this is all I got. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Important Note:** Just, wow. I wasn't expecting the reactions the last chapter received to be what it was! Like, I knew I would get a reaction at least because I'm used to writing plot twists, (I think) but it was honestly above and beyond everything I could have imagined — which I feel guilty about, because I feel like I had you guys misled. I'm glad you had fun trying to figure out who the "twin-braided girl" was going to be. However, it wasn't sweet Meguri at all, and I'm amazed most of you thought it was her. I was like, "What? Meguri? Where would I even go from there? Omg, how..." because last time I checked, Meguri has fluffy twin-tails, not twin-braids (please correct me if I was mistaken). **Edit:** Fuck.. she really has twin braids. Pull the trigger. Let's pretend I didn't say that.

Like, I was so baffled! I couldn't figure out how using Meguri as the twin-braids character would make sense. I mean, I understand that my actual explanation is a bit of a stretch because of the time constraints, but I didn't put THAT much thought when planning. I wanted to understand, but all I could come up was "Well, my writing was really vague so people would understandably jump to weird conclusions." I'm still learning that most of the plot that I thought were obvious (I did foreshadow her, I swear. Look back on chapter six where Hachiman bumped with a twin-braided girl) aren't really to anyone else, and that's my fault, because I sometimes forget that I have a weird perspective of the story as a writer. Oh, and this isn't me being salty about this, I just feel bad because most of you jumped onto the "Meguri Train" and I just really hope you aren't disappointed because this chapter is where this twin-braided girl will be introduced (at least indirectly).

Also, shout out to CMY187 for that very insightful review. It made me really giddy since you actually hit the nail on some parts. I also changed the tags from Supernatural-Fantasy to Supernatural-Mystery, because you're right. This story is actually a mystery. How can I overlook that? *facepalms*

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eight**_

* * *

It's Friday, January eleven, and the morning where my fourth loop begins. I spent most of last night sleeping like a rock out of exhaustion, waking up five hours earlier than usual. I should be sleep-deprived, but I feel alright. It's kind of wierd. For a person who died three times in a row, I feel so alive. I feel free, like I can do anything.

And I will really do anything, because I must.

I left home early this morning, but I didn't head straight to school. My destination: a place where a telephone booth can be located. I had a hard time browsing the net in search for functioning telephone booths nearby. Payphones have been very rare to see these days. With the widespread technology, and almost everyone having a cellphone at their disposal, telephone booths have diminished in number.

Then, as if by some bad toss of fate, I find myself being in a dire need of use of it. Not because I left my phone at home, since dear old smartphone is still safe and sound inside my pocket. It's because I need to call someone – anonymously – and only a telephone booth can help me with that.

 _As for the reason why... well, I guess you'll see._

The place I'm currently at is close to the central square. It's a bit strange how it ends up being two blocks away from the place where most of my deaths took place. I keep telling myself maybe it's just coincidence, but it feels too odd to count as one.

I shake my head to banish the thought away. The telephone booth comes to view and I walk for a couple more steps. Seems like the telephone booths these days are just landlines nailed to brick walls. Shame, I was expecting something enclosed in a semi-transparent cubicle, since apart from being anonymous, I could really use some privacy. I warily look around. Area's clear. Being this early in the morning, there is not much crowd present in the streets.

 _This is fine. Let's get this part over with._

I rummage my pockets in search for change and slid a coin inside. The green, small screen beside the cradle flashes the amount of credit I have; just enough to make a ten-minute call. That will do. Scratching the back of my neck, I fumble for the handset and press the buttons. Then I hit call and voila:

"This is the police hotline." After a few rings that seemed like forever, a solemn, female voice comes out from the receiver. "What can we do for you?"

I hold my breath for a while, closing my eyes at the same time. Then after exhaling hard, I say in the deepest voice I could muster, "I'd like to report a murder that will be happening today."

"I'm sorry," the tone of the voice is patient, almost sounding motherly, "but you're not making sense. What do you mean by 'happening today'? Do you mean it hasn't happened yet?"

"Exactly," I say while taking deep breaths. I need gather my wits here. I am sure the police will find it hard to believe someone who is calling from a payphone, much less trying to be unknown. In order to make this work, I need to be as convincing as possible. "A murder will be taking place today, and I need your help to prevent it."

"Can you tell me how you got this information?"

"It doesn't matter how," I dismiss with a sigh. "The fact that I know this and I'm sane enough to give you a warning is what matters. Listen, please."

"Will you at least tell me your name?" she asks, but I can tell for sure what she actually meant by that: _Are you sure want to remain anonymous?_

"Yukinoshita Yukino," I say instead, my tone strained. "Not my name. But that girl will be dead by the end of the day if you don't listen to me."

"Okay," she says, collected and composed. "Just calm down and tell us everything you know."

I heave a deep breath. "As I'm saying; Yukinoshita Yukino, daughter of a diet representative. I'm sure you know her father, at least?"

Silence responds to me, then I hear quiet mumbles. "Yes, I know him," she says, and I suddenly feel anxious. _They can't track someone who uses a payphone, right?_

"Someone will be stalking her today," I look around. "A guy wearing a hoodie. He has a gun."

"A hoodie...?" I can tell by her tone that she doesn't believe me. But since it's her job, she has to. A diet representative will be top priority, I'm sure of it. Even though it sounds like bullshit, they cannot afford to ignore this. Perks of being a bigshot. "I'm guessing you don't know what he looked like?"

"Yes. I know this is hard to believe, but you've got to."

"I believe you," she says firmly, and I grit my teeth. Exactly as I expected. _Does she really think I'd buy that?_ Fat chance. If I were her, I wouldn't believe myself at all. "Why don't you come visit our station so we can work with this personally? It will be better that way."

"No thanks," I shake my head even though she cannot see me. I cannot afford risking being locked behind the bars even for a single moment. "For me, it's better this way." —Do your thing and I will mind mine.

"Okay." I hear the sound of paper shuffling on background. "Tell me everything you think will be helpful." Oh nice, she's taking notes. Good girl.

"And you will do something?"

"And I will do my job," she says. "Now, go on. Time is gold."

"Okay then." I straighten myself. "Yukinoshita Yukino will be at school today. Soubu High School. A school marathon will be commencing at around noon. She will run there, retire and head to the infirmary—" I stop myself. I'm being too specific. "Anyway, the marathon will be taking place outside the school grounds, so the hoodie guy will most likely be there, watching her. I'm not entirely sure, but I get a feeling he could be there."

"Alright," she says. "Soubu High, at noontime, a marathon and a chance of the suspect being present. Anything else?"

"A gun," I add. "He has a gun. Please be careful."

"We always are. Can you tell me what kind of gun it is?"

"I'm not sure..." I try to remember, ignoring the bloody images flashing in the background. "A small, black pistol-looking-thing. Something like a handgun."

"A handgun," she repeats, and I wonder if she is talking to someone else. Oh no, am I being tracked? "Was that all?"

"There is more..." I trail off, "but I'm not really sure."

"Anything you can give will be valuable," she says patiently. "You can tell me whatever it is. I will listen."

"...It's about a twin-braided girl." I recall my last moments from the third loop, before my body alongside the others exploded. There is someone else there, and I'm sure she is involved. "There is a possibility that this hoodie guy has accomplices. Keep your eyes open for twin-braids, please."

"Alright," she says. "How about her face? Is she armed like this hoodie person? Can you give me anything that can help me recognize her?"

"I don't know. But she looks about a little more than five feet. Around sixteen to eighteen. Probably a student as well, but I'm not sure."

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she finally says, "I will inform Yukinoshita-san's family about this."

I think that is just another roundabout way of saying: _This better not be a prank._

"I think so too. Please do." I can't do anything to stop her sister from being involved, anyway. Maybe with the police being involved this time, the risks will tone down just a little.

 _And Haruno, speaking of her— no, I will deal with that later._

"I'll do that then. Let's sum everything up, okay?" Before I could answer, she starts, "A person in a hoodie, armed with a handgun and probably around the place where an event of Soubu High School will take place. Next is a twin-braided girl, a suspected accomplice; more or less five feet in height and looks around sixteen to eighteen years old. Am I right?"

"Right. That's about everything I could tell—" I stop as something familiar catches my peripheral vision. Turning around with the handset still pressed in my cheeks, I narrow my eyes to a certain direction.

It's a supermarket.

"No, there's this truck," I add urgently. "A bit larger than normal. White. Probably a delivery truck."

"What's with this truck—"

"On second thought, never mind." The credit is close to zero. "I'll deal with that myself." Her voice starts to sound a bit frantic on the other line, but I no longer care about her. "I'm counting on you," I remind her before saying goodbye.

And with that, the handset reunites with its cradle.

I leave the telephone booth and cross the road towards the other side where the supermarket from earlier resides.

Since a dying person will never be able to think straight, my memories about the moments before my deaths are all either blurred or hazy. I can only see a series of warbled images. But mostly, all I can remember is the pain of dying itself, and that sucks. I want to remember the most crucial moments, at least.

That being the case, I can't remember neither what kind of gun the shooter used, the face of the twin-braided girl, nor how exactly the truck who took Yukinoshita's life looked like.

So how do I know that the truck is larger than normal, or how it was white, or how it was probably a delivery truck?

The answer is simple. It's because parked beside the supermarket I am facing at – is the very same truck.

 **~※~**

The interior of the supermarket is just as boring as what it looked like outside. Bland white walls, tiles and depressing dull lighting. If anything, this looks more like a convenience store, only with larger and longer aisles.

It's about half past six in the morning, so I'm amazed they are already open for business. Being this early, there is not much customers present anywhere. It feels like I'm the first customer here, so that being the case, I should at least buy something.

I walk towards the beverage section and begin my search for a can of MAXX coffee. I only had a bowl of cereal for breakfast since Komachi was still asleep by the time I head out. I'm still hungry, so while picking up two warm cans of coffee, I also snatch two pieces of ready-made-sandwiches.

Apart from purchasing goods, I keep reminding myself that I also need to gather information about that truck outside. I get the feeling that it's some kind of a delivery vehicle since it has the same logo of this supermarket. Of course, there is the possibility that I just mistook it to be the same, but the similarities are so extreme I can't bring myself to ignore it.

There has got to be a reason why that truck looks the same, and I am going to find that out, no matter what.

I look around, but only aisles catch my view. No customers, guards and even staffs. Maybe it's still too early because only the cashier is present in the counter. He looks to be middle-aged, mustachioed and burly looking. I'm kind of expecting someone friendly-looking, but this guy here looks about the same as my dad when he's drunk. What a pain.

Holding the cans of coffees and sandwiches in my hands, I slide through the counter. If I'm going to gather information, I need to strike a conversation, at least. But god knows how awful my conversation skills are. Yuigahama is always the one adept in this field. How am I going to pull this?

Should I copy Yuigahama's greeting and shout YAHALLO at the top of my lungs? Will that work? (Looks at the cashier) No, of course it won't. Maybe I could pull this off by using some of Hayama's antics? Walk over and smile like a retarded baboon? Well, it's not like I have any choice, but it sounds doable compared to the former, at least.

The cashier on the counter spares me a bored look before glancing away. How friendly. How does this kind of person land a job on front desk, anyway? His face looks exactly like a crumpled piece of toilet paper, not something anyone would like to see first thing in the morning.

Regardless, I flash a smile. "Good day, isn't it?" This better work, or else. I look at him, who is now looking back. "I'm Hikigaya Hachiman. And you are?"

"Someone who doesn't give a damn about your name," he replies gruffly before raising a brow to the items in my hands. "Are you going to let me scan that or what?"

I can only mutter, "Oh yes, of course..." while handing him my purchases. Great. Just, great. My first attempt in ages at striking a conversation ends with me being savagely turned down. How wonderful. It appears that my already awful conversation skills have fallen rock bottom now.

But fear not, I won't back down, "Hey, um, can I ask something about that—"

"I'm busy, kid. No can do."

Please, die a million death, sir, thank you. Despite of my temper running out, I still keep the polite smile on my face. How the hell did Hayama keep up with this bullshit, anyway? I didn't know smiling could be so hard. "It won't take much time, please—"

"I'm a cashier here, dumbass," he cuts me off, scowling. "I take payments and hand out receipts. I'm not being paid to humor stupid people—"

Suddenly, as if descended by the heavens, the sliding doors open and a young woman wearing the same uniform as the cashier enters. "Don't let the boss hear you, old man," she says while wagging a finger. She walks up to the scowling cashier and frowns at him. "Geez, you're basically just asking to get fired if you keep acting that way towards customers."

Then, she looks at me while raising a penciled brow. "Are you having trouble with something?"

"No." I swallow, hard. At least this person is acknowledging me. "I was just asking about that truck out there," I answer, pointing at the large vehicle parked outside.

"Oh, the delivery truck," she mumbles. "What about it?"

So it really was a delivery truck all along. However, there is no way I would just spout "I think that truck will kill a lot of people tonight" and expect them to understand. I need to find another way around it. I need to gather facts, but I can't be too straightforward. In other words, I have to lie.

"Well, you see," I mumble, thinking of a good cover story, "we kind of got startled last night by a loud honk. I looked outside and there it was, that very same truck was in front of our house..." I look at her, trying my best to not spare a glance at the counter. "So uh, I assumed it was that one who made that noise, because... well, it looked similar."

The both of them are silent for a moment, probably processing my explanation in their heads. The young woman has a thoughtful look, glancing back and forth between the truck and myself.

However, the cashier's expression looks far from believing everything I said. So he blurts "Liar" with so much finality. The woman who I assumed to be a supermarket staff, shot a glare at him. He clears his throat before looking away, and the woman smiles warmly at me, urging me to continue.

I clear my throat. "I just happen to pass by and thought I'd tell you, since you know, my parents aren't exactly happy about being disturbed during sleep."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the woman says while bowing her head, and I feel a sharp pang of guilt coursing through my chest. She fishes her phone out of her pocket and dials a number. "Let me go call the truck driver."

I become startled, but even before I could stop her, the cashier beats me into it. "Don't even bother," he says, and the woman who is typing on her phone looks at him. "I already told you. This boy is lying."

"Okay. Explain then," the woman says, far from amused.

"Must've slipped your mind," he sighs, looking irritated, "but we only restock during Saturdays. If some mindless bastard actually honked his horn in front of this brat's house in the middle of the night." He points outside, to the direction where the truck is parked. "It can't possibly be our fellow out there."

The woman blinks, then, "Oh yes," she nods, smiling at him. "I just remembered." Then she looks at me and tilts her head, saying, "I'm sorry, but my co-worker is right. We only replenish our stocks during Saturdays, so it won't make sense for our truck to be passing in front your house last night, since it's, well, Thursday."

"There's got to be some kind of mistake here," she adds.

No, there is no mistake at all. I already figured it out. "Yeah, sorry for the trouble," I bow, fishing my wallet and handing my payment to the cashier. "But thanks, anyway."

"Sure thing," she says, putting my purchases and receipt on a grocery bag before handing it to me.

I smile and thank her before heading out.

It's already a quarter before seven as I head out of the supermarket, so I hurry to fetch my bike on the parking area near the telephone booth before crossing the road back to the supermarket once again. I stare at the truck, looking so harmless compared to the monstrosity who crushed Yukinoshita on my last loop.

Now, I'm sure. It really is the very same truck. I slide my hand inside the grocery bag and take a still warm can of MAXX coffee, but I stop midway from taking it out, staring at the logo imprinted on the plastic bag.

I have seen something like this before, and it's a very important moment...

Afternoon of the third loop, that time when I was walking on my way towards the pub, I bumped with someone holding the same grocery bag. It's that time when I lucked out and picked up a free can of MAXX coffee on the ground.

I remember now...

That's first time I have seen that twin-braided girl!

She was that girl whom I bumped into on that exact area where most of my deaths took place. Why is she there? What is the reason? The answer: it's because she came from this very same supermarket! I look at the can of coffee in my hand. So that's why she had MAXX on her grocery bag, she bought it there.

Wow, that's making a whole lot of sense.

And the fact that the woman from the supermarket told me that their delivery truck is only used on Saturdays made me wonder: if that truck only hits the road during Saturdays, why was it present on the crime scene — which is Friday?

The twin-braided girl was holding a plastic bag of the same supermarket, meaning she had been there. She also came out of the truck which crashed with the limousine, meaning — she was the one who was driving it.

A girl as young as her cannot possibly qualify as a delivery truck driver, and even is she was, there is no point for her to be driving that truck on that day – because the supermarket only restocks during Saturday.

Thus, that will only mean one thing:

On Friday, January eleven, the delivery truck of a certain supermarket — will be hijacked by a twin-braided girl.

 **~※~**

I arrived at school ten minutes late, but Hiratsuka-sensei let me off the hook, which I was very thankful for. The following classes have become more boring than usual, since already know what the lesson will be all about, having attended the very same lecture for four times already. I doze off, letting the dull voices of my instructors come in like muffled tones inside my ears – and before I know, it's already lunch break. I head out of the classroom right after the bell signalling the beginning of break rings. Since I already ate my fill this morning, I didn't bother buying anything to eat for lunch. Instead, I wander aimlessly across the densely packed hallways, my mind drifting off elsewhere.

At the very least, I managed to lower the chances of the truck being hijacked by going back to the supermarket and warning them to be watchful about it. Of course, the cashier was very salty about it, but the nice woman took my advice with a smile. It's not a guarantee that the truck won't really be hijacked, but I would like to think that warning the staff about it will lower the possibility, at least a little.

As I walk, I think of a way to stop Yukinoshita from attending the party. Yes, instead of making sure she can go home safe – I changed my plan into making her avoid that route where she will be meeting her supposed death altogether. Also, I think I managed to coerce the authority into providing me back up by planting a sense of danger. The police force can do it, at least, I have faith in them.

Anyway, the plan about stopping Yukinoshita from attending the party is still far from being solid. I have my goal in sight, but I still don't know how I'm going to reach it.

How can I stop her from attending the party?

By the time I ask that to myself, I have reached the field slash courtyard where most of the students spend their lunch time eating in picnic-style. I walk past the couple of them, who are happily chatting while eating with their friends.

Friends. I find myself thinking about that term.

A friend can ask a request to a fellow friend, and being a friend, the latter should accept the request as a sign of their friendship. If ever – just thinking hypothetically– that Yukinoshita and I were friends: can I request her to not attend the party? And as a friend, would she accept it?

I doubt so. Yukinoshita will not change her actions merely in accordance to the request of others. She is a woman of her own decisions, and I'm sure she won't accept my proposal (even if we were friends). I can't even tell her my reasons. I can't even tell that I'm doing all this to save her. Basically, I have been keeping her in the dark for three loops already — and I plan to do the same now, in the fourth.

Yukinoshita will only doubt me, so requesting her personally won't be an option. Of course, it's possible that Yuigahama can be capable of pulling off what I can't. She can urge her not to attend by sheer persuasion, and eventually, I'm sure Yukinoshita will relent from her stubbornness.

But Yuigahama is also attending the party, not to mention she was— no, she will even be the one inviting the both of us. Yuigahama will never blindly follow my instructions, and I'm sure she would find it suspicious if I ask her not to invite Yukinoshita to the party.

To stop a problem, you should cut off the root — that is what I like to believe.

But what is the root anyway?

It's Yuigahama's persistence and Yukinoshita's acceptance. All of that connects into one main cause — and it's the party all along. The party that is organized by one person:

Hayama Hayato.

If I want to stop Yukinoshita from attending the party without convincing her — I just need to make sure that there won't be a party happening altogether.

I need to stop the party from happening.

In short, I have to dissuade Hayama from doing so.

If I were Yuigahama, I would just choose the most direct way and try to convince Hayama to cancel it. That is the easiest way to make my plan work.

But I am not Yuigahama.

Hayama will not trust me.

And I have my **own** way of doing things.

At some point, I end up walking on the same hallway where I coerced Hayama into my faulty plan. This is where I told him about Yukinoshita possibly having a death threat.

This is where I asked him something about a death threat.

Death threat.

In order to make Hayama cancel the party, I have to cause enough ripple to unsettle the waters. If will not try a direct approach like making the party not possible at all, I can try a way where Hayama will be forced to cancel it personally instead.

I have to make Hayama willingly cancel the party.

I have to install a sense of danger, caution and fear so he would be forced to be on guard all day long — thus, cancel plans that can make him distracted, or in a way, vulnerable.

In other words, I have to make him scared enough to actually cancel the party.

Pity there are no payphones nearby the school.

Seems like I need to make an anonymous call again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Guest Reviewer** : Okay, to set it out straight, I guess it's now obvious (although a little vague) that Hachiman has come to be very obsessed – not particularly of Yukino – but of preventing her death, that he would actually risk his life many times for the sake of it. Hachiman is not aware, but he really is obsessed. Her death(s) triggered something in him that allowed, not only his deep concern for her, but also his desire to pursue a goal to go out of hand.

Personally witnessing a person's death will result to a trauma – and our favorite MC is not immune to that. In his case, he didn't only saw Yukino die multiple times, but also caused Haruno and Hayama to die as well. Not to mention that when he loops, he sees an alive version of them again – who are all unaware of the tragic fate they suffered on a timeline only Hachiman remembers.

Hachiman is traumatized and has three loop's worth of grief bottled inside him. See how traumatized people sometimes go berserk? (Looks at Kaneki and Eren) Now, I don't mean I will write a mentally unstable Hachiman, but I guess you can figure out what he will choose between the cold-blooded or hot-blooded kind of traumatized.

As for that question you think I probably won't respond to: Hachiman definitely dies because of Yukino (I thought I already made this apparent, actually). The fact that he dies because he keeps trying to save her should be a proof of that. Basically, he dies because he's so stubborn on saving Yukino, not entirely because of her existence.

So what will happen if he stops saving her, you ask? Well, I guess you'll see.

Oh, and also, you guys don't have to worry about the deaths having no sense in this story. I assure you, there will be a time when everything will be explained. If anything, I am the mastermind of all the killings, as long as the true culprit isn't being revealed **yet**.

* * *

 _ **Chapter Nine**_

* * *

It's still Friday, January 11, and an hour and a half early before the marathon begins.

So far, my plan to succeed on preventing the murder in this iteration has been progressing smoothly: I managed to somehow raise suspicion to the authority about the hoodie person and the twin-braided girl in order to plant a sense of danger. On top of that, I also unraveled the secrets behind the suspicious truck and lowered the chances of it being a rampaging limousine-crusher tonight.

It's probably best if I work on uncovering the identities of those killers instead, then let the police deal with them afterwards. However, the only thing I can qualifiy as acceptable evidence are the facts I gathered from the previous loops, which are a bit unreliable in some way.

Because of that, the only thing I can do is to ensure that those people who are trying to kill Yukinoshita will not get their way while the police are hunting them. I have to buy them enough time while making sure Yukinoshita is safe and away from harm.

For the most part, the first part of the plan allowed the main villains to be partially taken cared of, and now it's time to deal about ensuring the safety of the dead-girl walking herself. The latter half of my plan requires to keep her out of danger until the fixed time of the day where most of our deaths happened: which is between seven to nine in the evening.

Anyway, by the time I plan this, I realized that Yukinoshita's chances of survival will increase if she would only not come to the party at all.

How so?

In the first loop, she got shot on the way home; in the second, I took the bullet, but it was no doubt that she was still the target; and in third... well, that just proves the fact that these people I was and still fighting with are desperate enough that they would even resort to such horrid procedures in order to kill her.

However, the options of convincing her and Yuigahama to not come has already been ruled out, so I have to think of another way of approaching this issue.

I need to use an indirect approach where I could dissuade Yukinoshita from attending – or Yuigahama from inviting her.

In other words: I need to use an indirect method that will prevent both Yukinoshita and Yuigahama from coming, or at least know about the existence of the party itself.

But still, it's unmistakable that Yuigahama's involved with the person who organized the party, so preventing her from knowing about it would be close to impossible.

With that being the case, I have to make last-minute plan adjustments.

 _Convincing Yukinoshita to not come is not an option._

 _Preventing Yuigahama from knowing is ruled out._

 _Involving other people will only endanger them._

So in order to make this work, I chose to take the only approach I could think of. I'm both running out of time and options, and I can no longer risk involving anyone else. Three innocent people dying brutally on my account in a span of five minutes is already enough. I no longer want to endanger innocent souls anymore.

If requesting for help means basically killing them if I fuck up, then I would be better off not asking for help at all.

Third loop's horrific failure taught me that involving people was a grave mistake. If somebody else dies because of me, they won't be able go back in a repeated version of January 10.

I am the only one who can defy death

Unlike me, if they die, they stay dead.

I am the only one who doesn't have to worry about my goddamned life, so I should do this alone and seek help no more.

Anyway, I feel like I have digressed a little too far. If directly involving people is not an option, then I just have to make them cooperate in a roundabout manner.

I have to indirectly convince Hayama to cancel the party, and this plan of mine will give me the chance to make that possible.

 _Anonymously give Hayama a death threat._

I plan to use an unknown number, scare the living shit out of him and force him to cancel the party.

Of course, I won't really kill anyone, but I need to make it as threatening as possible. I'm aware that this is beyond normal, a method that only a hopeless madman will choose, but I get a very good feeling that it has a better chance of success compared to choosing a more direct approach, which includes asking him directly to cancel it.

And since the version of Hayama who was willing to accept a favor from me was now burned in pieces in a world that no longer exists, I have no choice but to play this whole ordeal dirty.

After all, being too certain leads to suspicion, being vague leads to more suspicion, and suspicion leads to a bad end – which leads to death.

 _I have no choice but be a background character._

Although basically, choosing to do this already makes me a criminal. I mean, I'm going to threaten somebody of his life, not just prank him.

Except I can no longer care about the morality of the plan at this point. This is the only thing I could think of. And besides, it's not like I will actually set out to actually kill him; think of it as an indirect request disguised as a death threat.

Anyway, since I'm already inside the school, using the telephone booth from earlier is no longer possible. The school won't let me out unless it's a dire emergency. Also,payphones are obviously not available inside the school premises. I only have one phone and one phone number at my disposal and, to make things worse, I don't even know anyone I could ask to lend me a phone.

I must make this work before the marathon begins, or else I will lose the slim chance of succeeding in this plan I am betting on.

"Come on..." I mumble, my hand above my chest.

By the time I realize it, my heart is already beating like mad.

It's because of the fear of realizing that I am now running out of time.

 _I have to get moving. I have to find a way to make an anonymous call._

While thinking of this, I notice that the hallway is now filled with more people compared to before. Muffled voices and incoherent chatterings fill the air. It's 9:45 and the bell signalling the end of break is close to ringing – and when it does, the preparation for the marathon will begin and I will lose my chance.

I frantically look around, wishing at some point for a telephone booth to magically appear on a corner.

But nothing, all I can see is a clumsy looking first year girl who is busily talking on her phone while chatting with her friends at the same time.

"That's one hell of a multitasker..." I mutter to myself while maneuvering through the sea of other students. The corridors are usually not as crowded as this during breaks, but I assume most of them are already preparing in advance for the upcoming marathon and are heading out to change in the locker rooms.

Obviously, this first year girl is not one of them. Instead of taking the free time as a chance to prepare early, she's busy talking with her friends in the hallway.

On normal cases, I wouldn't give a single damn to a person like her, but something about her distracted demeanor rooted me at the same spot.

I begin to observe her. The bag on her shoulder is not zipped, showing all of its contents for anyone to see: a binder, a pen and a lot of female paraphernalia. To tell the truth, she's so unguarded that if one would want to, they can take anything from her bag and she won't notice at all.

The girl finishes talking on her phone, snaps it shut and throws it to her bag without zipping it. With that, she continue chatting with her friends.

I narrow my eyes and look around: at the crowded corridor, at her equally distracted friends, at her unzipped bag...

Then I realize that I am actually thinking of stealing her phone.

My mother never failed to teach me what good and bad things are when I was young. Because of that, and with a little touch of common sense, I became well aware of what is right and what is wrong. Stealing, no matter what the purpose is, always falls to the latter side, because taking something that is not yours without asking for persmission first is wrong, and I know that.

Only if I don't do this, my chances of succeeding will drastically fall. My plan requires a mobile device that can't be traced back to me. Without this being done, Yukinoshita may still end up attending party — and that alone increases the risk of her dying horribly at the hands of either the hoodie person, or the twin-braided girl.

 _I have no choice. This is desperation on play. I have to do this._

Heaving a deep, shaky breath, I take out my own phone and place it beside my ear, pretending to be talking to someone over. Cautiously, I walk towards her direction beside the window and position myself close enough, but careful not to look too suspicious. My neck feels rigid, but I try to glance around the viscinity, searching for any possibility of anyone witnessing the mischief I am about to do.

Area is clear.

Except for a tall guy whom I assumed to be a third year who's leaning on a wall in front of us while fiddling with his phone, everyone around us can't either give a damn or are too busy with themselves to even care.

I silently pray for Stealth Hikki to prove useful, steady my breathing, chew on my lip and finally set off to action.

Her bag is open, undefended. I slide my hand inside, careful not to make any weird, conspicuous motions. A notebook cover, a pen, a cylinder feeling-thing I assume to be a lipstick, and finally, a smooth-textured object. Her phone is in my hands. Everyone is distracted. No reactions.

I spare a quick, fearful glance to the clumsy-looking girl, with my filthy, stealing hand inside her bag, clutching her phone.

I swallow hard, pull my hand out, and quickly hide it in my pants-pocket. This whole thing is beyond nerve-wracking. My heart is huge lump inside my throat.

I put my own phone down and slid it inside my bag, and look ahead—

Then my breathing stops, and my face stiffens.

The third year guy is looking straight at me, the ends of his eyebrows meeting in the middle and creating creases on his forehead. He lowers his phone and slides it to his coat pocket.

To my fear, the expression on his face screams suspicion.

I move away from him, from the girl, from her friends, from the space that makes me nervous as hell. My legs are shaking with every step.

 _Just get me out of here, please. I'm not a criminal. I didn't steal anything._

I desperately tried to run.

"Hey, dickface."

But an aggressive sounding voice stops me.

Willing myself to move, I take another step forward.

"Have some respect to your upperclassman, all right?"

A hand drops on my shoulder, and soon, an arm is wrapped around my shoulders. It's the third year guy.

"When I call you, look back. That's the rule."

He steers me back to the girls from earlier, his beefy arm around my shoulders and his grip aggressive and hostile. I almost feel like a wimp under his clutches, and preventing my back from shivering has taken a good portion of my attention.

Somewhere at that moment, I feel the shape of his phone on the side of his coat pocket — right beside my left hand.

"Excuse, miss," says the third year guy, nodding politely to the clumsy-looking girl who owns the bag I slipped my hands to a moment ago. The chattering stops, and all the girls look at him, some actually blushing at surprise. "Can you check your bag, please?"

The girl raises a brow, but nods and does what he said anyway. She lifts her already unzipped bag to check the contents, and after a good minute of checking, she throws a questioning glance to the both of us.

"Is there something missing?" asks the guy who is basically hugging me. Ebina-san would throw a fit if she sees this. "Wallet, phone... anything important?"

"No..." answers the girl, shaking her head. She pulls out a coin purse, a wallet — and a phone. "Everything's here, sempai."

"You sure?" the guy asks, his grip on my shoulder loosening.

The girl nods, and before the guy realizes, I already slipped out of his embrace.

 _Please, spare me from that gay shit._

He looks at me with a face showing both confusion and embarrassment, and to add insult to the injury, I put on the most unpleasant grin I could pull. He scowls at me then looks back to the confused-looking girls while bowing apologetically.

Then, he slips his hand inside his coat pocket, frowns deeply, and slides his hand out, empty. Something is missing.

I turn a corner, nervous, but grinning.

Then I pull an unfamiliar phone out of my coat pocket.

 _To hell with morality, I am absolutely awesome._

 **~※~**

After having a hard time searching for a secluded place to call and threaten someone, I find myself standing inside an abandoned faculty bathroom. This place is located in the building mostly comprised with offices and faculty rooms, so it's far from the classrooms and usually deserted. Not a bad spot, actually. Although it has not been used in ages, it's kept in a good condition, so it doesn't smell at all.

I can hear the muffled voices of the students on the courtyard outside. As long as the break is still not over, most of them will choose to stay there. The teachers are also either having their lunch or helping with the preparation, so there's no possible threat of being overheard by one.

At the very least, I am fairly certain that no one can overhear me, but I still feel a little anxious. It can't be helped, I guess. Marauders are always on guard because they are always up to no good.

It's just a matter of having too much good luck or fucking the tables up.

To make sure no one will accidentally come in while I'm busy doing another mischief, I hang the "on maintenance" tag I found lying in front of the door and lock it shut.

After that, I sit above the sink and take the stolen phone out of my pocket. Strangely enough, we both have the same model of smartphone, so I operated my way with it in ease. Luckily, the phone doesn't have any password required as well.

First things first, I examine the necessary stuff before taking action. Phone signal, checked. Even though it's a closed space, I still have good signal reception. I look for the prepaid balance and find it still usable, even enough to allow me to have a phone call for hours.

Taking my own phone out, I copy Hayama's phone number into the other phone. Good thing I don't have the habit of clearing call logs so I still have Hayama's contact number in the list of my received calls. I find it strange how mostly everything I need are always being handed to me without trouble, but I try to ignore it. It's stupid, but I tend to be suspicious of the tiniest things.

Shaking my head, and heaving a deep breath, I press call.

One ring, three rings, fifteen rings and finally—

[Hello?]

An uncertain voice comes out of the line.

My face loosens, and rather than being nervous, I feel guilty, and at the same time, excited instead.

"Good morning, Hayato-kun."

My voice comes out as something I could no longer recognize as mine. It's relaxed, cold and undeniably threatening.

[Who's this?]

"Someone who knows you well."

I know who he is and how pathetic of a person he is behind his mask, so I guess that counts as knowing him well. It's not like me to assume that I know people, but it helps on preventing him from coming up with the idea that this call is connected to me. I have to keep the name Hikigaya Hachiman out of this affair.

I need to be a completely different person just for now.

I have to be cold, ruthless and downright evil.

I am never a good person in the first place, so this should be relatively easy.

[What do you want?] asks Hayama, his tone lowering in volume.

"Nothing, really. I just want to tell you something."

To make a more impacting effect, I pause before continuing.

"You will die tonight."

For a brief moment, I wonder why I'm not being unsettled at all despite threatening someone of their life. In fact, I find myself actually enjoying this. It's immoral, but it's also oddly satisfying to inflict fear just for once, instead of being at the receiving end of it.

I wait for his response, then—

 **KNOCK–KNOCK–KNOCK**

Suddenly, three knocks bang on the door, almost prompting me to scream in surprise. I jump off the sink and peek on the small gap between the floor and the lowest side of the door.

A shadow resembling a pair of feet can be seen.

Someone is standing outside.

While thinking of reasons why would someone knock on a locked room with an "on maintenance" sign hanging on it, I keep my mouth shut and my breathing silent. This person probably heard my voice and wants to check if someone is actually inside.

 _Damn._

I keep as quiet as possible, wishing for that person to just go away. Luckily, Hayama takes his time thinking over what I have just said and keeps silent for a minute.

After a couple of seconds, and a few inaudible mumbles, footsteps echo outside and begins to fade away.

The shadow is now gone.

"...That was close," I whisper, my tone tinged with relief.

There is a bout of static silence on the line, and I wait until Hayama finally responds.

To my surprise, he doesn't sound concerned at all when he speaks.

[Another death threat, huh...]

In fact, it even sounds like he's mocking me.

[You know, I would be more intimidated if you threaten me in person. But I guess that's a bit much to ask for a coward...]

His words echo through my mind. I have known it's possible, but my mind can't deal with the words as fast as my ears have. It's like too much water has been poured into a potted plant: his voice gets stuck between my skull and my brain, the bulk of it sitting there unabsorbed.

As he said that, I regretfully realize my mistake. On the third and latest loop, he told me that his family has already received lots of threats before, so it's possible that he's already used to these kind of things.

Dammit, I should have taken that fact into account before doing this.

[Besides, you're threatening me over the phone,] he continues, still on his mocking tone. [Does that mean you're afraid of personally saying all this bullshit to me?]

No, a part of me actually wants to threaten him personally, but that part is getting drowned by the fear of what his family is capable of. I mean, money can get me anywhere unpleasant, and they have a crap ton of that. I don't want to suddenly find myself sinking in a random lake, or something.

Anyway, it's obvious that Hayama is not falling for this since he already got through these kinds of threats, and is probably thinking that I won't really do anything. With that being the case, I must at least sound believable if not threatening. I must make him believe that it's not like the pranks he has received before — that he will end up dying if he ignore this.

 _But how am I going to do that?_

"Oh, I'm not afraid at all, Hayato-kun."

In the meantime, I decide to keep up with my act while thinking it through.

Hayama needs to be scared, to be frightened, to be panicked. But after going through things like this before, he has become immune to it. This guy won't get fazed by merely threatening him alone. I must think of a way to weaken his will. I must find his weakest spot then brutally jab it repeatedly until he gives up.

But what is the weak spot of the one named Hayama Hayato? Where is the weak spot of the person whom most people in this school look up to?

His reputation? His relationships? Miura Yumiko?

What can I use? Who can I use?

What is this something, or someone that Hayama cares about the most?

* * *

 ** _"...No, thank you for looking after her."_**

* * *

Those words suddenly echo inside my head; they are Hayama's.

The words he said after our talk from the previous loop.

 _Our talk about... Yukinoshita._

"Oh...'

My breathing stops, and my eyes widen.

As if on cue, my face reflected on the bathroom mirror contorts a very twisted smile.

It's a smile I can't remember seeing before.

A smile full of malice and ominous intent.

Perhaps I should be scared to find myself reacting like this, to find myself doing things I have never even think of doing so before.

Perhaps I should be frightened to see that smile on my face, because I know I would never be able to make that expression, ever.

Perhaps I should freak out.

But I didn't.

Instead, I feel nothing, so I keep on smiling.

To tell the truth, I don't even know myself anymore.

The one who only worries about human relationships has been ran over by a truck, the one who hates youth more than anything has been shot by a gun, and maybe, somewhere down the line, the one who seeks for something genuine... has been blown off into pieces from an explosion.

Through each loop, and through each death, an important part of me is getting left behind. And now, the only one that's left is this smiling, manipulative, evil bastard who is looking back at me in the mirror.

But I couldn't care anymore. I am well past the point of giving a single damn.

If all that's left is this Hikigaya Hachiman who has become uncertain of himself, so be it.

I will succeed in this loop using this version of me. It doesn't matter anymore.

Shaking my head, I clear my throat and continue.

"If you insist, okay, let's meet personally..."

I pause, putting more emphasis to my next words.

"Just make sure to bring Yukino-chan with you so you can save me some time."

I hold my breath, narrow my eyes, and brace myself for his response. My heart is gnawing at my chest, but I can't feel anything. No fear, no guilt, no remorse.

Just blank, empty.

Completely numb, that is what I am.

[Touch her and you will regret being born.]

Pure, unadulterated anger seethes from Hayama's voice.

As expected, his deep concern for his former childhood friend, for his _Yukino-chan_ , will be his weak spot. It seems like my interactions with him from the previous loops were not entirely fruitless, after all.

My face is blank, but inside, I am smiling.

"Ohh, how scary. So, are you going to what? Kill me?"

[No...]

He pause, and I know for sure what he's going to say next.

I know exactly who has the balls to actually kill me for Yukinoshita's sake.

There is only one person.

[But she will. Haruno will. She will kill you.]

Yukinoshita Haruno will kill me, he said.

Should I be worried?

I can cheat time while outplaying death at the same time. I am interested on how Haruno – who was crying miserably after her sister's death – can succeed on killing me permanently.

On top of that, I am also intrigued about the last words she said to me before her death. I don't know about the Haruno in this iteration, but the dead version of her there definitely knew something about my looping.

She asked me to go back and save her sister. It will not take a genius to realize that she was referring to my looping ability. I have no idea if her off the charts deduction skills allowed her to deduce it based on my actions, or if she was heavily involved in all this mess.

Either way, that is not on my priorities yet. I still have a lot of things to do and think about. Gotta save that woman for later.

[You don't know who you're dealing with, you motherfucker.]

Strangely enough, I find this foul-mouthed version of him more amusing; a whole bunch better than the boring nice guy he acts. Venom is reeking from his tone. I smile. Just like myself, anyone's unpleasant side will appear the moment death is involved.

[Setting aside the fact that you're threatening two people who are both in a respectable and powerful family...]

Oh, so he chooses this time to assert his dominance, huh? How frightening. Merciful gods, I am pissing my pants in fear.

[You just signed yourself up as Yukinoshita Haruno's enemy.]

That — made me laugh so hard.

She has always been my goddamn enemy. In fact, you can even go as far as call to her my nemesis. If that woman is like an unbeatable last stage boss lurking on lower levels, then I am a cheat code waiting to be abused.

Hayama, as if intimated by my laughter, talks in a feeble but nevertheless determined voice.

[I'll inform her about this... and I would advice you to never come out into the world again... wherever the hell you are.]

No, I don't think so. As much as I like being alone, I don't want to stay in an abandoned comfort room forever. Not to mention I also have a lot of things to accomplish outside.

"Thanks for the advice. But I'll never be scared of that woman."

That's a dirty fucking lie. In truth, a huge part of me is actually so scared of Haruno and what she is capable of doing. Daylight kidnapping? Man, that was just a glimpse of what she would do when her little sister's life is on the line. Basically, I am already pushing my luck just by involving Yukinoshita's name on this. But I have no choice.

Sacrifices must be made, and this time, I won't be the one doing it. Desperate times calls for desperate measures — or so they say.

By the way, Hayama being audacious from earlier actually pissed the hell out of me.

 _Might as well require some payback._

"Plus, I doubt she would even spare her time..." I grin, trying to imagine Hayama flinching at this blow, "on such boring child, as you."

Yep. Boring. That hit you hard, didn't it, Hayama?

Silence responds to me, but I feel strangely satisfied.

"You don't know anything about me. Who I am, where I am, or how and why I am doing this. You don't know a thing, buddy."

I straighten myself and dust my pants. Hayama is still silent on the line. The creepy smile I have on my face greets me when I accidentally glance at the mirror.

It looks disgusting, so I scowl in return.

"Word of advice, buddy: go home early and be careful." — _and cancel that damn party too, while you're at it._

Without waiting for a reply, I end the call, slip the stolen phone into my pocket, force my face to revert into its usual deadpan expression, and open the door...

"Kukuku. To think that we would meet at a place like this. We really are destined as fated comrades, are we not, Hachiman?"

Only to find Zaimokuza Yoshiteru outside.

 **~※~**

Zaimokuza stands in front of me, leaning against the wall in front of the door I just opened. I can't will myself to move , it's as if I became paralyzed, so I just stare at him. But even if I have been able to, I doubt that I would even react at all. I probably would just stand and stare, mulling about how stupid this whole situation is.

"What are you doing here, Zaimokuza."

Unintentionally, my voice comes out with more edge on it.

Zaimokuza winces, but tries to hide it by readjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He breaths deeply, inhaling as much air as possible, and booms in a hearty laugh.

"Mwahahaha! I am a lone wanderer who seeks to explore uncharted territories. It wouldn't be a surprise to find me at any place, Hachiman," he says solemnly. "However, I think the most fitting question would be..."

Zaimokuza pauses, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms.

"What in the blazes are you doing in there?"

I pull back against the door, taking some distance away from him as I can, clutching the doorknob in my hand. That was not a conscious movement but an instinctive one.

"How long have you been there?"

"Ahem. Well, the truth of the matter is..." Zaimokuza trails off and flashes a cheeky smile. "I have been watching you already even before you came here."

Abruptly, all the light and noise of the world turn back on. No, they didn't turn on — the chattering voices and the light source has not vanished in the first place. They simply failed to reach my eyes and ears. But to me, it felt like time has stopped and then started moving again.

Zaimokuza was watching me even before I came here. No matter what his reasons are, the most crucial fact would be...

"Yes," he nods. "And by that, I mean I saw what you did there in the corridors."

Zaimokuza saw how I tried to steal the phone from that first year girl earlier. He saw how I slipped my hand inside her bag and chicken out, only to steal a phone from the third year guy.

Oddly enough, I don't feel guilty or humiliated at all.

"Hikigaya Hachiman, you knave. I never realized that you're actually a rascal in loner's clothing."

"It's not what you think..."

"Deny no more, you punk. My keen eyes allowed me to see everything. In fact, I even heard every single thing you said inside."

I already expected him to admit that, but the revelation still came as a shock to me.

"You mean..." I trail off, remembering something. "Wait, are you the one who knocked?"

 _Those three loud knocks from before. Was that from him?_

Zaimokuza nods, looking somewhat proud. "I was curious as to why this seemingly mild-mannered Hachiman would want to steal a phone, therefore I consigned myself into an espionage to find out what you were up to."

I furrow my brows. "But what's the point of knocking...?"

"Make that out as a warning," says Zaimokuza, gesturing his gloved hand in the direction of the door. "Your voice can be heard clearly from the outside, and with a bad toss of luck, you were almost overheard the bypassing janitor."

"So you knocked to keep me quiet until the janitor passed by?"

"And made some lame excuses about why I was standing in front of a non-functioning bathroom, too."

I find myself awestruck. Zaimokuza helping me out of good will is one thing, but to think of something as brilliant as that?

 _Wow, I want to petition this day to be a holiday._

I walk forward and punch lightly at his arm. "That was pretty clever of you. Thanks."

Having nothing to say, I lean on the wall beside him. Usually, I would do everything I can to get away from this guy, but he had done me a huge favor already. The least I can do is to answer the questions he's about to ask — if he has any, that is.

I look at Zaimokuza who is looking down with his arms crossed. He said apart from seeing what I have done even before I came here, he also heard what I said inside. Does that mean he heard the whole death threat thing? There's a chance he did. He won't be standing here if he didn't, after all.

After thinking about that, I notice that Zaimokuza is already facing me, a determined look at his face.

"Hachiman, while I am glad that you finally realize that we should take the first step in the annihilation of those who trample on us like kings over serfs..." he says, shaking his head disapprovingly. "I cannot say I agree with what you're doing."

 _I can't say I agree too, actually. But I have no choice._

"That blonde guy is very enviable, I know. What a lucky fellow, bearing every single trait most of us would kill to have."

The first part of his speech sounds almost like something coming directly from his heart. But then, he shakes his head gently and smiles.

"But he's a good person, Hachiman... and so are you. We may have both done some mischief a few months ago, but I know you're never the type who will do such awful things."

My tongue is paralyzed, but I will myself to speak. "You don't understand, Zaimokuza..."

"Damn right. I really don't understand at all."

Zaimokuza's agreement was so straightforward that I actually have to look up. He take off his glasses, wiping the lenses with a small, white cloth. I'm dumbstruck. To see Zaimokuza talking without his annoying verbal tic is not something I would have expected to happen right now.

"Hachiman, I can let that pick-pocketing slide because it's so cool..." he mumbles, still wiping his glasses. "But those words you said to him, and the way you said them... that's not you, man... that's not you."

He looks at me, and I flinch as I realize what is there in his eyes.

It's fear.

Shaking my head, I try to pretend not seeing that.

"You talk as if you know a lot about me."

In result, my words come out harsher than I intended.

"No, I don't..." he shakes his head. "All I know is that you're nice and kind enough to keep up with me... even though I act like a doofus most of the time."

He finishes and wear his glasses again, and I watch in curiosity as this annoying guy who only worries about his trash writing slowly reverts into someone who is only worried about someone else. Someone he considers a... friend.

Now that I think about it, Zaimokuza is the only person I officially accept to be labelled as my friend as well.

 _Why is that, I wonder?_

Zaimokuza visibly swallows hard, uncertainty on his tone. "You will never really kill somebody... right, Hachiman?"

"The hell are you thinking? Of course I won't."

More than anything, it's seeing people die I hate the most.

I have died for three times already and I know exactly how horrible it feels. I don't want anyone else to suffer that same despair, much less be the one to personally inflict it to them.

Zaimokuza sighs in pure relief. "I see... my worries were unnecessary. That's good to hear..."

He straightens up, smiles widely, and opens his arms as if inviting for a hug. "Now, profess your worries to the master fencer general. Don't hold anything back.

"No, I would rather not."

Zaimokuza looks genuinely offended by that straightforward refusal.

"But you might need help—"

"I don't," I cut him off, "and even if I do..."

I wipe the present expression on my face and replace it with the same twisted smile from earlier. It's a bit funny how Zaimokuza backs away instantly upon seeing it.

With that, I continue.

"You're the last one on the list of people I would seek help to."

"Can I be frank too?" he asks, and I nod. "In case you don't know. Behind that calm and lazy demeanor of yours is a complete madman. You're the last person on the list of people I would offer my help to."

"I am truly honored then."

After saying that, I turn my back at him and walk away.

It's hard to hate Zaimokuza. I mean, he's such a total idiot. And yet, in an odd way, he's sincerely trying to help me. Zaimokuza's intentions are all out of good will and I appreciate that. No matter how annoying of a person he is sometimes, it's no doubt that Zaimokuza Yoshiteru is a really good person.

That alone is reason enough for me not to involve him.

A kindhearted person is far more dangerous than an evil one. Those who are truly kind always end up touching the deepest of chords in my heart and tend to stay rooted there.

I don't want that.

I hate betrayals, so I end up hating to trust people too.

That's what I used to think. But many things have changed now.

I don't want to trust people because I might end up leading them to their deaths. My days living this unconventional slice of life has been over and done the moment I looped for the very first time. Now, it's just nothing but a series of gruesome deaths and miserable iterations. My life has been fucked up, and I don't want to fuck more people up by involving them.

It will be fine as long as it's just me being damned. After all, that is how it has always been in the first place. Hikigaya Hachiman is alone – and he will be damned alone.

So I walk away.

I walk away from Zaimokuza, and from the things I used to believe in behind. I saw a glimpse of companionship being handed to me. It's nice and warm. A happy feeling.

But my life is not happy one.

My whole life is death itself.

And so, I walk away.

"Hachiman."

But I forgot that most tend to chase those who walk away.

Zaimokuza stands right behind me, clamping his wide hand on my shoulder. I don't know if it's actually him, but there are only two people in this school who calls me by my first name.

"Being a lone warrior doesn't really suit you, no matter how adept you are in the art of being a loner."

His grip on my shoulder tightens, but it doesn't hurt at all.

"A lone warrior becomes one for he is alone in all sense. He never worries about leaving anyone he loves because he has no one. You're not like that, Hachiman. You want to be alone, but you never will."

He lets out a small, strained laugh.

"There are a lot of people who cares about you, man."

Zaimokuza is a good person, and a small part in me actually wants to accept his help. I'm so tired, and accepting help has been very tempting. You can go as far as to call me desperate. But since I woke up in this loop, every time I consider accepting help, all I can see is someone being shot in the head, someone being crushed by a truck, or someone being blown off to pieces.

"Was that your chunni-side talking to me?" I ask with a small laugh.

Zaimokuza is silent for a minute. I thought he wasn't going to say anything, then I hear him sigh before speaking.

"No, that's just me. Your comrade."

A smile slithers its path on my face, and for the very first time, I find myself being glad about always being paired to this guy during gym class.

But almost instantly, the smile fades, and I am back to being emotionless again.

Zaimokuza is a friend, and god knows what might happen to him if I involve him in this mess. I already have enough guilt bottled up, so spare me from more, please.

A friend is better to have alive than dead.

 _No matter how chubby Zaimokuza is, he can still be crushed by a truck, right?_

"I'm sorry."

I peel his hand on my shoulder. He gives no resistance at all.

"But you have to stay out of this, comrade."

Without looking back, I begin to walk away once again.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

* * *

After checking that no one is watching for the millionth time, I approach the tiny box beside the guard house and chuck the stolen phone in the hole at the center; it's SIM card is crushed and no longer recognizable in a trashbin somewhere, all the call logs are deleted and no more evidence of my using the phone for my misdeed is left.

 _That part goes without saying. No way in hell I would leave a single trace behind._

The phone slides free in my hands and falls inside the small box with a hollow thud. Anyone can tell by the sound that there is nothing else inside the box but the phone. Figures. There's no such thing as a good person who will drop by the Lost and Found section just to return a lost phone. That kind of thing only appear in children shows; something that kids watch all the time only to be completely ignorant about it as they grow up. The world is corrupted enough to taint the innocent minds of children into being corrupted as well. No one's immune to it.

A growling sound comes from my stomach as I walk away from the guard house. I haven't eaten anything since first period, and now I feel famished. I make a quick trip to the cafeteria and purchase the last piece of yakisoba bread on the shelves. Even though I have a lot of things going on, it's still essential to feed myself— no wait, that goes for everyone. Everyone should eat. Can't risk dying of starvation, after all. That would be very lame, even for my case.

For a while, I sit on the bench out in the courtyard. The sun is up and it's warmth is caressing my face. The whole place is quiet. Everyone must be on the locker rooms now, preparing. It seems I am the only one having his last-minute lunch. Must be a good thing I chose this place, since I need to do some thinking — no, a lot of thinking, rather.

Gazing up above in the dull, steely sky, I let out a deep breath. Just the mere act of recalling the whole thing makes me feel overwhelmingly empty, but it has to be done. I must face the excruciating pain of my past mistakes in order to move on forward.

 _Last time I had gotten it all completely wrong._

I had tried to fight this war on the battle's stage, flailing my arms blindly at the front lines. I had focused all my energy on playing my part, not even realizing that I was just a chess piece given a head start advantage. If I want to succeed on this loop — or at least fail without any casualty — I have to rethink my strategies.

Instead of taking the main role, I must look behind the curtain. This time, there's no debut for an actor, for I have to act my role behind the scenes.

 _But how am I going to pull that off?_

I unsettled the waters in the authority and made sure Hayama is cautious enough that he would cancel the party. The initial part of the plan worked, and I'm sure I at least pulled it off.

—The police force will do their job the moment I involve the diet representative on the whole thing.

—Hayama will definitely be worried for Yukinoshita if not for his own safety.

So far, I have done my job well, excluding a certain someone overhearing the whole threatening affair, which I'm certain won't be a huge problem, since I can sense that he's sincere on wanting to help me.

 _I will just hope that Zaimokuza has enough sense left to keep his nose out of this. I have enough people dying on my account already._

Time is 11:34, and the marathon will start as soon as everyone is ready and lined up in the square. I really have no choice but to run this marathon since the only reason I have to skip is not wanting to run at all, which I am sure Hiratsuka-sensei won't even try to consider.

It's a pain, but nothing could be done about it.

—Not until I realize that I could actually use this marathon to my advantage.

It's not set in stone yet that Hayama will really cancel the party. A huge part of me is actually worried that he would continue it, despite the death threat. I mean, who am I to assume that he really will cancel it? Hayama is still an incomplete mystery to me with regards to how he view his relationships. Do he see them as mere chesspieces to manipulate by his masks, or do he actually treasure them? Will his own life being in danger weigh more than his friends? _Maybe he really treasure them and will risk continuing the party just to please them..._

I shake my head in disgust. The idea is so revolting my head automatically repels it. Hayama is too shallow of a person to do something like that. The bastard who asked me to sabotage his supposed friend's love confession will never ever risk something as important as his safety for them.

But then again, I am not sure yet. If I want to erase my doubts, I must find a way to talk to him privately. It's a win-win situation. I can make sure if he really did cancel it, and if not... well, I can give him a little push. _A little persuasion won't hurt, right?_

And so, to make it happen, I need to make sure I can talk to him. With the marathon beginning a few moments from now, that guy would certainly be surrounded by his annoying fans, so getting at least a minute of his time is impossible task.

However, through the first January 11 and the first loop after it, what had given me the chance to talk to him?

 _Correct. It's the marathon._

That's why I'll run. I'll join the marathon and catch up to him even without anyone's interference. This time, I am on my own, but I'm sure I can do it. I can catch up now.

I stand up and throw the now empty pack of my lunch on the bin. If I need to do this, I must get moving, now.

First, let's head to the locker rooms. Part of me is hoping to see Hayama there, even by chance. That will make my job a lot easier, but the idea is so unlikely I ignore it.

It's a bit odd. I haven't been so worked up my whole life. Not even in the times when I encountered my own death. I mean, dying is a bit comforting in it's own strange way. It allows me to momentarily forget about my looping and everything that has happened before it. Death is peaceful because it snags all your attention to itself, not breaking contact until you die completely.

But then again, I died three times and am still alive, so the effect kind of weakened a little. However, unlike death, I feel that going about the whole process of breaking through every loop is more strenuous. Survival is a very risky job. On the other hand, death provides you an odd sense of tranquility. _After all, who can harm the dead?_ It's living itself I need to work hard on, since it's apparent that I have a talent for dying.

Except this is not death. The place I am in now is a fucked up version of life. A living hell. That particular thought unsettles me the most. Like I am being led to traps all along. Part of me wants to backpedal and find an escape route. Who knows if all this turns out to be a messed up January 11 again. Death is never pleasant, and I would know that better than anyone else. Even than those who are already dead.

Also, after that strange last encounter with Haruno from the last loop, I realized that everyone around me can be considered as threat — no matter how friendly and no matter how sincere they seem. Haruno from the last loop remained indifferent until her last breath. Clearly she was intentionally keeping something from me. It might not be much, but she had an idea of what was going on.

It's her own decision, and blaming her dead version about won't do me any good. However, a secret is still a secret, and no matter how many times I twist and turn around the whole thing, what Haruno had done was not something I could accept.

 _She knew something, and her distrust towards me contributed to their deaths._

This makes me realize that I was basically walking in the same bloody trap she fell from. Keeping things from others, even to the person in danger herself. But telling other people about it only killed them. On the other hand, Haruno had a choice. She didn't have anything limiting her actions. She could've told me, but she didn't. That's the difference there. I'm not like her. I have learned my lesson and I am definitely not someone who would let myself get bitten by my own arrogance.

I am well aware of what I set off here to do — and that is to prevent the murder — not seek fun or amusement just because I find it interesting.

And besides, who can say that the murderers aren't just lurking around, watching me, watching Yukinoshita, and waiting for the perfect timing to pull the trigger?

No one, right? All I know is that they're out there, waiting, and all I can do is wait until they fall for the traps I've set for them.

—Traps that I am sure won't set off unless I have a quick talk with Hayama.

The bell signalling the end of break rings, and instead of going back to my classroom, I head straight to the locker rooms. Once I come inside, I change into my tracksuit in complete silence. The room is now empty, and as I expected, Hayama is nowhere to be seen. I just can't be bothered, really. The whole plan is about catching up to him in the marathon, anyway.

I finish changing, tie up my own pair of sneakers and head out. Just like the locker room, the hallway is empty as well, so I assume everyone must already be on the way to the venue.

Exhaling a drawn breath, I step forward and turn a corner.

"—Ack!"

Then déjà vu smacks me hard in the face.

A black haired girl, clad in the same gym clothes as mine, is rubbing her reddened forehead before me.

"Would it trouble you to watch where you're going at?"

It's Yukinoshita.

 **~※~**

Tell you what, I can think of a number of ways to which this scene would unfold.

One, I could turn around and lock myself back in the locker room. Since I got an urge to vomit anyway, it isn't a bad plan. Two, I could spout a snarky comment about her suddenly showing up then walk out, which sounds kinda cool. Or three, I could just stand here like an idiot, my mouth open and my eyes wide, and just do nothing about this development.

 _Can you guess what I did?_

 _Yeah. I think I'm an idiot too._

My face sinks faster than a corpse in cement boots. In this instant, my face stiffens, my mouth hang with lips parted and my eyes as wide as they could stretch. There isn't even a point in trying to breathe anymore, as my heart stopped just by the sight of her.

It's as if I have swallowed my whole tongue out of surprise. My capability to speak has went down into a series of incoherent stutters as my throat stiffened up. The other person present is the first to recover and examines me mutely, closely, as if she's studying a newly-found specimen.

"That's odd..." she mumbles, glancing at me with confused-looking eyes. "I thought I stepped on a cockroach. Turns out it's just you, Hikigaya-kun."

In response, I just inhale a sharp breath, suppressing a forthcoming shudder.

 _Calling me a cockroach is being charitable. I saw you die horribly two times. Died for you three times. But now, I used your name to threaten someone. At some degree, you're already a dead-girl walking, but I still added another weight to the falling blade. You died two times and it was partly my fault, but if you die this time — I'll be the sinner, the culprit of all. Calling me a cockroach is not enough._

I look at her arms. I don't know which one, but whatever part was it, it's now linked back to where it belong. The version of Yukinoshita in front of me now has her limbs intact. No more blood, no longer disfigured, no flaw. After being a gruesome bloody mess a loop ago, Yukinoshita has reverted into being flawless, immaculate.

I can never forget how beautiful and nightmarish this girl can be. Those images of hers will never leave the recesses of my brain even if I try to erase them. From her rarely-seen blushes to her grief-stricken tears, from her oddly-adorable teasing expression to her lifeless blood-smeared face. The way how the different images of her contrasted with one another is so overwhelming that even the mere act of picturing them send a wave of different emotions to wash over me.

She tilts her head upwards to fully face me, and shadows sweep over her smooth, cherubic face. There is darkness to her eyes, one that is so painful to look at as it reminds me of her dead version.

—She stares right through me, and I realize she feels nothing.

She knows nothing of all the morbid deaths she faced of all the mistakes I've made. She knows nothing of my efforts, of my hard works, and all of my sacrifices. She only acknowledges me as her club mate who took the recent request by himself, not as the one who died three times for her sake.

Then suddenly, I become aware of my own feelings.

—I want to tell her so badly. Everything, and I want to apologize as well.

Tell her about her dead versions and my unfulfilled promises. About her deaths and my tortured soul. About my unheard cries of help and her sufferings. About the days that will never come back. About the January elevens we could never escape from. About the nightmares I could never forget.

I think maybe if I could tell her how much she meant and why I am doing this, it would make it right, but there could never have been enough time, there would never have enough damn space between us, and every moment away from her make things feel so much less real. Every time without her on sight makes it feel more like a ruthless game than a gruesome reality.

Every time I work behind her, letting her dance in a sea of rainbows while I bathe at my own blood, it feels much better, it feels much righter. To let her see the world as a harmless one even though it will kill her at the end. At the very least it will not give her the same pain as me. She will die and be resurrected by the time I loop back.

I want to apologize about the weight of my own mistakes. I want to apologize for being so cocky, and to think of myself as someone who could save her. _Just who am I, anyway? I am only a selfish creature._ To think that Yukinoshita Yukino's life ends up being weighed upon my own filthy hands. Regret is all I have to offer now, and it'd never be enough. It would never suffice. I'd always be wanting more and leaving less. I fall behind as the world speeds forward.

What should I have done differently to make up for all these awful and unforgivable mistakes? _Simple. I should have died._ I should have let myself get shot repeatedly in the face, or be ran over countless times. I am ruining lives just by existing. And I am ironic by itself, like some kind of a stupid joke. Every time my existence cease to exist I will spring out of nowhere again, unscathed and fully loaded with an ammo of another round of misery.

But of course, I know those are all just arrogant words. I would never be brave enough to go through all it. Insanity can take me in, but I will never welcome it happily. _Come by and go. My life is a cycle of repeating madness._

Contrastive to my inner wailing, my face instinctively forms a reassuring smile. I am never a man of smiles, and never a man of reassurances either, so it doesn't really come as a surprise that Yukinoshita didn't buy it.

My heart thuds in my throat, and I wish I could rid myself of it, because it's screwing with my head so much.

"Is something the matter?" she asks, still rubbing her forehead. "You look pale—"

She stops midway, her eyes widened in astonishment. Yukinoshita is completely startled, and it's because of something I have done — and still doing.

I am rubbing Yukinoshita's forehead with my own hand.

My thumb runs back and forth on the reddened part while I hold her head in place. This is the first time I have touched another person's face except my sister, the first time I take the initiative to act so intimately.

I can feel the warmth of her skin intermingling with my hand.

"I'm so sorry..."

My voice comes out in a strained, pained sound.

"I'm really, really sorry..." — _Sorry for hitting your forehead. Sorry for everything. For taking too long, for Haruno, for everything. Forgive me._

I hear the sounds of incoming footsteps and I turn my back, walking briskly in the opposite direction. I gamble my chances and spare a look behind before turning a corner. Yukinoshita's bewildered by my actions, and I curse myself for handling that so badly. I was supposed to look strong, being her protector, but I ended up looking frail instead. I look away. Nothing can be done about that.

It's just a matter of seconds before I hear Yuigahama's confused voice talking to Yukinoshita until I am already out of sight.

 **~※~**

Sunshine tickle my eyelashes, spilling warmth onto my face in spite of the deathlike chill that has glazed my skin. I look up and the blazing sun greets me with it's trickle of yellowish light. People are passing by, hurrying off to the starting point, bustling away and paying my existence no mind. Lifting my chin, I watch as my breath swirl against the frigid air. The marathon will begin in just a matter of time.

I'm late and the park is packed, so I barely find space on the same line as Hayama in the last pew. It hasn't started yet, though. Lots are talking. It's so noisy that I'm even amazed how they hear each other's voices. The whole sight brings back not-so-fond memories of the previous loops. It's exactly the same way: the cold weather, the dull sky, the students in tracksuits, the cheerings from the girls.

The only thing that's different is the place is swarmed with cops.

There are about eight of them, not in uniform, but I can tell, and when I look at his face, it's possible Hayama can too. After a while, some of them look my way and I get suddenly nervous that they are already suspecting me about the death threat. But it's impossible for Hayama to tell it was me and I'm sure of it. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid, a result of three consecutive deaths.

A minute later, I notice it's not just me they're all looking at. Their gazes are trained to Yukinoshita's direction for quite some time, who's uncharacteristically immersed in a talk with Yuigahama. The back of my neck tingles, and not in a good way. A hand drops on my shoulder and I see Zaimokuza standing beside me, his face impassive.

We both nod to each other and that's it.

I look at my phone. The screen flashes the time: _1:45._ Isshiki's annoying voice can be heard through the crowd of other voices. Somewhere in there, I hear Yuigahama's voice, shouting words of encouragement to Hikki so I look her way and nod curtly, doing my best to avoid Yukinoshita's eyes.

I look forward once again, at Hayama, then I recall something as Hiratsuka-sensei rises up the platform with a pistol in her hand.

Hastily raising my hands, I cover my ears with them. For a moment, I mull about how stupid I look, but I was distracted by the muffled sound of something sickeningly resembling a gunshot.

I waited for someone to fall over, to scream, to drop dead.

But no one does.

Instead, everyone begin to run.

I heave a deep breath and rub my pounding chest.

I position myself, kick the ground and take flight. I fee like a gust of wind in the center of all this stupid runners who are sprinting frantically. It's a bit odd that I feel lighter than usual, but I don't question it. It's fun. Everyone thinks of me as well as what they do to air. I slip through them in ease, using the gaps formed by the already running-out-of-breaths, and minding my own steps. This is already my third time running this marathon. I am an expert at this.

This marathon is not solely about how fast you can run, but how long you can last. It's a contest of how long you can stay hitting the road without being exhausted. To progress, all you need to do is to keep your pace at moderate speed and wait for the others to naturally slow down. Of course, not everyone can get exhausted early, but with your energy being reserved by running on neutral pace, you can still have an advantage. If I just think through it, it's actually possible for me to win in this match.

I jog along the railings by the park, but that isn't even nearly how fast I could run. In these thighs is enough power to be clean across the park in seconds should I choose. Every footfall is soft, every movement swift I could be perfection even on autopilot. From my shirt come white wires going right up to my ears. I have my iPod going off, playing the most adrenaline-kicking track on my earpieces.

While carefully managing my every step, I keep watching for any signs of fatigue to the people in front of me. For a second, I gape in awe as I see the determined looks on the other's faces. They really are taking this seriously, whereas I'm doing this for completely irrelevant reasons. Well, nothing can really be done about that.

After a while, their full sprints become slow, until they just settle on jogging lightly.

 _This is my chance. Now's the time to strike the chink in the armor._

I run down the asphalts, my feet hitting the rough ground hard, sending shockwaves right up to my brain. My lungs heave like the air is fire and every part of me feels like it would burn at any moment. Now is the time to run like it's all my body knows how to do. The soles of my sneakers are kissing the ground. Just a little while ago, I have balked at idea of running so fast, but now I relish the prospect. These feet of mine are designed to travel at a speed of a rabid dog. Not made to run blindly, or to run aimlessly. These are designed to prey, to chase.

You've seen it on the cartoons when someone moves so fast all they leave behind is a blurred trail of color, right? Well that's how I must have seem when I run past the other runners. A surge of pride swells through me. The stupid looks on their faces are priceless.

Through the vapor arising from my every breath, I spot a lone figure jogging ahead. It's amazing how he gets past through all those idiots with this pace, but I guess he's also controlling his breathing like I am. Hayama covers the ground with a great lolloping gait that suggest his ankles are made of tightly coiled springs rather than the sinew and bone the rest of us have. Each one of his mighty strides are worth at least two of mine, and with the slightest of effort, he outran the rest of us, barely breaking a sweat and not panting in the least.

Exerting more power to my legs, I try to catch up to him. Outrunning the exhausted ones might seem easy, but catching up to Hayama is no small task. After all, I am talking about a well-trained high school football star, molded into being a viscous runner. He runs like there's no tomorrow, and I internally laugh at the term as it fits perfectly well with my case: _No tomorrow._

Anyway, regardless of all that, and with the exception of the protests my throbbing thighs are screaming, I successfully manage to catch up.

Hayama notices me almost instantly. First, he looks a little startled, and maybe even a little scared. He begins running faster, and I struggle to keep up with his pace. The sun is a blurred blot behind the skyscrapers. My breath expels in puffs, and I watch Hayama's back, his gym clothes rustling with every step.

One loop ago, he ran so confidently, like he could take a step and pave a street with gold just by pressing his feet against against the ground. The person before me is not like that. What I saw back then was a motivated person heading for the finishing line, while this one's different; he runs like he's running away from something.

 _Is he avoiding me?_ I ask myself in panic. _Does he know that I was the one who called him, who threatened him?_

Worrying won't do me any good, so I force to keep as calm as possible. Once again, I push myself forward to line myself with him. This time, he doesn't try to avoid me, so I just take it as him accepting my presence. The first thing I do is to watch him in the corner of my eye, thinking of a good way to start the conversation. Uncharacteristic to him, his face turns out to be grim, a little tired-looking even. Surely, this sod is not the douchebag I resent, and I suddenly know how I'm going to strike a conversation.

"You don't look good. Want a piggyback?"

In response, he spares an annoyed glance at me, scowls and looks away again. His face hardens, taking an unreadable defensive expression.

"Look," he says through gritted teeth. "If this is about which course I took again. It's useless. Stop bothering me."

 _Oh,_ I suppress the urge to smile. _Agitated, I see._

I let out a small, mocking snicker. "No, I don't really give a damn about that crap anymore."

For a moment, something flashes beneath the surface of his hardened expression and I hurry to observe the sudden shift. It's too late, though. It disappeared before I could identify it, like a passing breeze. One moment it's there for you to feel and see, the next it's lost forever.

Hayama doesn't respond a single word.

Slightly disappointed, I keep on running.

Just like a game of hide and seek, I remind myself. Only with both of us hiding, both of us seeking. In this little game, he will try to decipher my intent while I deduce his thoughts with the help of his reactions. At the very least, I'm proud at my proficiency in this field. Hayama is so good at hiding while I excel at searching carefully hidden things. Anyone with a fully functioning brain can see who has the advantage here.

Still, it will be so hard to search for something that is hidden under the thickest of masks, and there's only one solution to that.

 _If a mouse refuses to leave its territory, lure it out, use a bait that it can't ignore._

"I was just wondering why would Haruno kill somebody."

 _Alright, I'll admit. The sudden shift in Hayama as I said that is absolutely terrifying._

This person in front of me is no longer the one who laughed at my dark humor one loop ago. For starters, he looks like Hayama, except his expressions. In fact, his face is expressionless with no sign of feelings. Facial expressions are for those who have emotions and a mind able to choose for itself. But his dark hollow eyes show that he has neither, and he fully know what he is doing. This sudden shift is intentional, and he wants me to see it.

I wonder for a brief moment why I was so affected by this. It's not even the very first time Hayama showed a genuine sign of hostility towards me. That little scene on the rooftop during the school festival is still fresh in the back my mind. He also admitted it many times before: I'm not as nice of a guy as you make me out to be. I am aware that there is this side hiding behind Hayama's facades all along, but it still came as a shock to me. Not the part where he shows it — but why he has shown it.

 _Haruno and Yukinoshita. You really care a lot about those two, don't you, Hayama?_

I do my best trying to remain impassive. We're still running, but Hayama just keeps on glaring at me with cold eyes. I'm positive he won't talk unless I explain myself, so by the time we reach the bridge, I breathe deeply and look at him.

"I heard you talking on your phone during break."

It's a risky gamble. I have no idea where Hayama was by the time I called him. He might be in the classroom, he might be hiding at some other comfort room. Either way, I think I'm still safe with my bet despite the risks. In fact, I can even see this as an opportunity to reach a win-win situation. If he buys it, then the conversation is up. But if he doesn't, I can just make him willingly say where he was, and steer him to my desired topic of choice.

Staring isn't quite the word for what Hayama is doing, though he'd fit the dictionary definition to a tee. His eyes focus, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect is harsher than I could have ever imagined. It's impossible to tell what's going on in his mind.

"No one else is in the clubroom," he finally mutters, and I resist the urge to throw a fist in the air. _The clubroom, huh?_

"Hayama, I am starting to wonder if your brains don't even live up to that always brilliant smile of yours," I say in my usual tone, still mocking, but contained. "Your voice can be easily heard through door, you know."

Those are the same words Zaimokuza told me as he overheard me. I just hope he'd buy that. I slow my pace, and I notice as he does the same. Finally, I got him hooked.

"Tell me about it," I say in the most concerned tone I could muster.

"And what will you gain by knowing about it?"

Strange, I'm sensing a tinge of doubt there. Does he think that I am trying to do something underhanded with this? _Oh, well, I really am, huh..._

It can't be helped, then. What the third loop has given me more than anything is my latest asessment on Hayama. It's a bit wierd, but it's also obvious that he has a very soft spot for Yukinoshita — even when I am involved. It's a wierd relationship, really. It's apparent that he hates me as a person, but he never had shown any signs of disapproval on my presence on Yukinoshita's life. In fact, it even feels like he's welcoming it.

That part is still an unsolved equation to me. But whether it be solved or not, I'm still positive that I can use that fact to work in my favor. Hayama appreciates it when I show concern towards Yukinoshita, and I know he's not a total idiot by all means.

 _Let's mislead him, then._

"Nothing much. Just reassurance," I say.

 ** _Make yourself look motivated, determined._**

I look up at him, my eyes narrowed, but full of passion.

 _ **But still show some uncertainty with a hint of unwillingness.**_

Then I look down, sighing deeply while scrunching up my face.

 _ **Also, it wouldn't hurt to put a touch of suppressed embarrassment.**_

After a little while, I glance back at him, then pull my gaze back sharply, startled.

 ** _Show him that you want to help, but unsure of what to do._**

The effect is beyond amazing. His eyes soften instantly as if he is looking at a child crying for help. A hint of smile can be seen forming on his face before he looks away.

— _No, I'm fine with anything as long as she's okay._

It reminds me of the look he had given me after I said those words.

"You also heard the part about Yukinoshita-san, huh..." he mumbles, nodding as if coming up to a realization. "And you're trying to get yourself involved for her sake."

 _Yeah, buddy. You have been exorbitantly misguided._

To make a lasting effect, I keep looking forward without responding.

The tables have turned. Now it's his turn to make me cooperate.

"A death threat for me..." he mutters. "And as you might have heard, Yukinoshita-san's also threatened, although indirectly."

I try to look a little worried, then ask, "Have you told the police about this?"

"I have." He nods, looking behind us. No one's around but the two of us. The others are all left behind. "I also heard about an anonymous report that's possibly linked to the whole thing. Something about a tip about a murder plan. Not sure, but it involves her as well."

My eyes narrow at this. "The police told you?" I remember the reminder the police woman has given me earlier: _I will inform Yukinoshita-san's family about this._ But Hayama is not _family_ , so why was he informed?

"No. Haruno told me about this. She got the news from the police."

My heart jumps up to my throat. Haruno. I have actually forgotten about her for just a second. Seems like she's chosen to use Hayama to safeguard Yukinoshita while in school. Question is: _just what kind of plan is she brewing at this moment?_ And since thinking about what Haruno has up her sleeve fills me with dread, I choose to ignore it for a while.

Instead, I ask, "Does Yukinoshita know about this?" I swallow, hard. Just imagining of Yukinoshita's reaction should she be informed that someone's trying to take her life is very painful. _Would she panic? Be scared? Would she even react at all?_

"Haruno wants to keep everything from her," he sighs. "She thinks it's better not to tell her — but I don't think so."

Hayama's defiance toward Haruno kind of amused me a little. "So you will tell her?"

"I don't know..." he shakes his head, then looks at me with anticipant eyes. "What do you think? Should I tell her?"

"Do whatever you want," I snort. "Not like I have a say in it."

Hayama's eyes are trained on some invisible spectre, his heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It's as if his brain is suffering a massive short circuit and is struggling to compute. For a while, he's like that. Then he looks away with a pensive smile. His head tilts upward to the sky, eyes sliding into focus.

"Honestly speaking, you know Yukinoshita-san now more than I do," he says without looking at me. "Your judgement with regards to her would be more on point. So tell me, Hikigaya. Should I tell her?"

To be honest, I don't really have to think much of it. "Don't," I say, not skipping a beat.

"I expected that," he mutters with a smirk.

"So what's the plan?"

He looks at me and flashes a smug look. "Do nothing and wait."

"What? Like baits? You're using yourselves as baits?" The very thought of it actually disturbs me. Not solely because the act itself is so risky — but because I realized that I was practically using Hayama and Yukinoshita as baits to lure the murderers on my traps. "That's... a bit risky," I mumble, more to myself than him.

Hayama just shakes his head. "We have the police's protection. First priority is our safety, but if by chance the suspect shows up, they'll be there to apprehend him."

 _So you really are using yourselves as baits,_ I sigh. _Not like I'm any better._

"Hikigaya..." Hayama pulls me out of my trance. I look at him, and I have to resist the urge to flinch as I'm greeted by his suspicious look. "You don't seem alarmed at all."

 _Because I have already been through the same thing multiple times, dumbass._

I look at him with reproachful eyes. "So are you."

"Hiding my emotions has already became instinctive to me," he says, and I'm briefly reminded of the foul-mouthed version of him from earlier. Then, he sighs. "Also, I am, but not so much. I'm certain I won't die tonight. My real concern is Yukinoshita-san, since I have this odd feeling that she's the actual target... that my death threat is just a decoy. "

Part of what he just said perturbs me. So, I ask, "Are you saying that you feel safer knowing that Yukinoshita's the real target instead of you?" Anyone can notice the pure hostility in my tone. Good thing the other runners are still far back behind us.

"No, not at all." He waves his hand in protest. "It's because I keep reminding myself that Haruno is involved — and she can do almost anything she wants."

" _Almost_ ," I sneer at him. "Haruno's just human. Collective thinking is usually short-lived. Like everyone else, she's just a fickle, stupid being with sadistic tendencies and great gift for self-destruction."

Hayama looks at me as if I have two heads. "That's... a very insightful assessment."

 _I saw her cry beside her dead sister and watch her as she explode to pieces. I know Haruno in the strangest way possible. That assessment is nothing._

Forcing the surge of bad memories at the corner of my thoughts, I stare at him with a demanding look. "Give me something to do." It's obvious that I can't just follow Yukinoshita around for the rest of the day without looking suspicious. Not with the police guarding her every move. I need to be involved in Hayama's plan to prevent any troubles from happening.

Hayama thinks about it for a moment. "Well, I will have an important meeting with my parents after this marathon." He nods. "You can look after her in my behalf."

— _an important meeting after the marathon_. Meaning, there will be **no party**. The plan is a success, he actually cancelled it.

I internally high-five myself.

There's really no point trying to run to him, now that I already got my confirmation. But just thinking of bailing at this point leaves a foul taste on my mouth. This time, I want to keep running. In this loop, it will be a race where there's never a question of stopping until the finishing line is crossed. I can't say I am good at pacing myself, that skill still eludes me, but I know how to keep going even when my body tells me there is no more in the tank. There is always a reserve if I'm stubborn enough to demand it, and I am. I already lost enough marathons with this guy. Now's the time for me to run with the intention to win.

But just as I am to sprint at full speed and make him eat dust, Hayama speaks.

"Do you know what the right thing is?" He stops on running so I do, too. "What are the qualifications of a correct decision?"

It definitely comes as a complete shock, to see history repeating itself.

Those are the exact same words he asked to me during the first loop.

The only difference is, unlike then, I know how I am going to answer now.

"There is no such thing as a right choice," I start with a light jog, urging him to follow along. "An awful decision can be beneficial to someone, while your supposed right choice can kill someone else."

I look at him, and I am greeted by his awestruck face. Clearly he wasn't expecting a straight and honest answer from me. But I feel like giving him one, so I continue.

"If you want to do something, do it, whether it be right or wrong. What matters is your conviction to face the outcome, regardless of what they may be."

Our pace quickens until we're back to the way we run from earlier.

"You sound like you're talking through experience..." he says with a curious look.

 _Oh, you don't know the half of it, Hayama._

I just realize that aside from wanting to tell Yukinoshita, I also want to tell someone else about this, just to relieve a bit of the huge emotional burden. Hayama is the last person I will tell about this, but he's here already, and I have a feeling that he would understand.

"Once, I made a choice. And it made people suffer. It's obviously my fault."

I intended my voice to sound like a cry of forgiveness, but it comes in a blank tune.

"But despite all that... even though I feel like I made the right choice. I still can't help but wonder..."

While running, I glance at Hayama. Like a good child, he's listening attentively.

"Was it really the right choice?" I ask while running out of breath. "Maybe doing the right thing only leads to the worst outcome?"

Hayama's face is impassive and unreadable. He puts on a solemn, thoughtful look.

"I don't know. I never have. I can believe in my own capabilities, or the choices of the companions I trust." Amidst the vapor he expels from his mouth, he shakes his head.  
"But no one ever knows how it will turn out, Hikigaya. No one."

 _Yes, even for someone who went through the same thing four times like me._

He lets out a small laugh. "However, If that's the case, if you want to try something else, do it." I can now hear the footsteps of the other runners moving closer. "Just like you said: what matters is whether you will be willing to face the consequences, no matter what they will be."

I raise a brow at him, wondering about what point it is to throw my words back—

"If the choice you think is the right one doesn't work... then do it the _Hikitani-way_."

—Then he said that, and I am actually left speechless.

"Do it wrong, do it viciously, do it roguishly and just sit around, watching how it will blend perfectly well with how twisted the world is."

For the first time in this loop, Hayama gives me a smile that's not a result of my fake and calculated expressions. The sight is a bit nostalgic.

"Maybe that way it will turn out better."

With that, he blasts out like a rocket ship, running in a way that left me awestruck.

I try to catch up. With the way the things are going on, I can really keep up with that pace. I'm not that tired yet. In fact, since only a couple of exhausted looking athletes are behind me, I can actually pass up for the second place.

However, I am reminded of why I ran this marathon in the first place. So instead of running after Hayama, I slow my pace into a light jog, letting the others run past me. I keep jogging alone for another couple of minutes until I reach the finish line.

Unsurprisingly, Hayama took the first place.

I skip the awarding's ceremony and head to the locker rooms instead. From wearing my tracksuit, I change into my regular uniform. Since I have no place else to go right now, I start wandering around the empty hallways. The cheers and loud voices from the square can be heard through the open windows. _I walk, walk walk, walk..._

And by the time I notice it, I am standing in front of the infirmary's door.

I consider it for a moment. Meeting Yukinoshita right now, and after that little scene earlier would be a bit... embarrassing, by all stretch. But then, I would be meeting her anyway, so what the hell. After running a hand through my disheveled hair, I raise my other hand to knock on the door— but I stop midway, my hand still raised.

A bubbly voice I wasn't expecting is coming out from behind the door.

It's Yuigahama's.

Okay, this is unexpected, but not entirely surprising. Yuigahama had been here, or will be coming here anyway if I base it from the original January 11. Initially, she'd been here with Yukinoshita, then left by the time I arrived. Maybe it's because I've arrived too early. Great timing. The best thing I need right now is Yuigahama to brighten the will-be-awkward mood. Her presence is more than welcome.

I knock, followed by Yuigahama saying, "Um, c-come in," then I twist the knob.

The smell of antiseptics, rubbing alcohol and freshly open box reach my nose.

Upon coming in, I am greeted by two girls, sitting face to face with each other.

Yuigahama, who's looking at me is sitting on a chair parallel to another person.

Except that other person is not Yukinoshita Yukino.

—But a teary-eyed Miura Yumiko.

* * *

 **Note** : That little part on Hayato and Hachiman's talk was inspired by a scene from a certain story in this very same fandom. Hint: it's an excellent Haruno fic.


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't own anything.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eleven**_

* * *

When Yuigahama's face drained of color, I know for sure there is a problem, even without seeing Miura's teary eyes. They are both sitting there, still as stone statues, the sunlight passing through the transparent glass of the window and bathing them with an orange tint. The room is on a state of deafening silence. No one dares to speak a word, no one tries to move a single muscle.

I have been through with her enough to say that Yuigahama isn't capable of complete silence unless her brain is in sheer overload. Right now, her executive functioning is down to looking back and forth between me and Miura.

 _It isn't like her, little miss chatterbox._

For a a while, I do a quick survey of the area.

In front of me, Yuigahama is gaping, her eyes surprised and panicked. Sitting in front of her is Miura, a handkerchief at her hand. I can tell she's trying to hide the it, but anyone with enough braincells could deduce that she has been crying. I couldn't give a damn, to be honest. Part of me is curious, of course, but there is something else I need to know.

 _Where the hell is Yukinoshita?_

I can feel it coming. A panic attack is on its way but I try to keep it at bay. _Deep breaths_. My heart is pounding so much, and I'm starting to wonder if running in the marathon is a good idea at all. _Deep breaths. Calm down._

I know it's possible, but I haven't prepared myself well enough to the fact that even my smallest actions can change the entirety of the whole flow of events. To make it worse, the thing I have chosen to change is no small thing. The party is a vital element of the original January 11, and now that I have removed it from the equation, perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise that the flow of events becomes disrupted.

This is exactly what makes meddling with the past a complete pain in the ass. You're lucky to have the original details, but as soon as you act differently, your foreknowledge becomes useless because history itself will change.

Resisting the urge to bolt right out the door and blindly search for Yukinoshita, I huff a deep breath and look at Yuigahama's way, narrowing my eyes in the process. That prompts her soul to be sent back from the abyss.

"Oh gosh," she mutters. "I thought you were Hina..."

I raise a brow, mulling about it.

 _Hina_ , she said. It appears they were waiting for Ebina-san by the time I knocked and mistook me for her. It explains why Yuigahama allowed me to come in despite of Miura's current condition. Point is, I'm sure as heck Miura wouldn't want to be seen crying by someone like me, of all people.

Clearing my throat, I try my best pretending not to see another person in the room. If I play my cards right, I could get Yukinoshita's current whereabouts before Miura throws a fit. _Deep breaths. Deep breaths._

"Well, not me," I shrug, feigning indifference. "Oh, by the way, do you know where Yukinoshita is?"

"Ah? Eh? Y-Yukinon..."

By the time Yuigahama's voice dies out, I know for sure that something troublesome is about to happen. The only announcement of its arrival is a slight drop in the air temperature and the descent of absolute silence. Without turning, I can already tell she's looking my way.

"Yukinoshita, Yukinoshita, Yukinoshita..." mumbles Miura in a monotone voice.

The sound of a chair creaking startles me, prompting me to look up and meeting her eyes. A pair of dull green orbs stare at me.

There's no anger, just a cold, blank stare. "I'm so sick of hearing that bitch's name," she spits out.

"Yumiko..."

Yuigahama tries to hold a hand out to her, but Miura recoils away from it.

"Enough with your nonsense, Yui. I'm not asking you to side with me. I just want you to face what's really happening and stop sugarcoating things."

There is something in that statement, a pain behind it. I watch Miura in silence for a moment. In response, she looks away from me with a frustrated look, but I keep on scrutinizing her. I can sense it, this rage seething from her is nothing but a shield for pain. Like a cornered soldier, blindly throwing out grenades, desperate to stay alive.

Question is, where is all that pain coming from?

What could possibly cause Miura Yumiko to shed tears?

"This is beyond unfair. It doesn't even make sense. It just happens," Miura says, now with fresh teardrops forming in her eyes. "First, _you_..." She looks up at Yuigahama. "I don't know how it happened, but on that first time you visited that club, I knew for sure something's changed. We have been friends since our first year... but just like that, it felt like you were taken somewhere far away. It's godsend maybe, since you became a lot more motivated in studying than you used to... Still, I can't help but feel like you've been stolen away from me."

Yuigahama wears a stricken expression, her own eyes tearing up. For a while, I fear that maybe I shouldn't be here, that I am not allowed to hear anything she says. But every word, every sentence, although unsteady, is willingly coming out of her mouth.

Dumbfounded, I realize that Miura's not holding anything back.

It's odd, but I have a feeling she's _intentionally_ saying all these in my presence.

She shakes her head while looking at Yuigahama. When I look harder, I can see the faint traces of it; she's trying to flash a smile at her, but the act only makes her look more anguished. Perhaps she realized it, as her eyes blurs up again in an instant.

"But I swallowed it all, Yui," she mumbles, looking down again. "I know my limits. You can go make friends with anyone as long as they're fine people. I mean it, really. I'm not bitter because you became friends with that girl. I'm not mad at you at all..."

Miura wipes her tears away. "It just feels so unfair. T-then there's Hayato..." She strain her vocals but nothing comes out anymore, but I can see that she's trying to continue, hoping someone would hear her. Suddenly, her frame wrack with raw sobs and she shakes like a leaf.

Perhaps unable to bear it any longer, Yuigahama dives to envelope her in a hug.

I can no longer ignore it. The panic is surging, building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of my stomach. I can't concentrate on anything else that's happening. The next moment, my heart is starting to beat harder and faster, adrenaline levels rise, my hairs stands on one end and my brain starts to fire out thoughts like a machine gun.

After closing my eyes and heaving a deep, shaky breath, I speak up, "Um, e-excuse me?"

Both girls look up to me through each other's shoulder, eyes red and wet with tears. The first one to recover is Miura, unlatching her arms on Yuigahama. The only pink- haired in the room is trying hard not to meet my eye, but I can catch her sneaking a weary glance at me once in a while. Miura, on the other hand, just stares at me with the very same blank eyes from before, urging me to continue.

Beads of sweat start to form in my palms, and I resist the urge to start pacing around and keep my feet rooted in place. The dark thoughts in my head swirl so fast and so disturbing that my brain momentarily shuts down my body. _This is not a time to lose myself, I need to gather my wits here. Deep breaths, deep breaths._

 _What should I do? Ask Miura? Bad idea_. I look at Yuigahama, cheeks smeared with tears. _She might know something about Yukinoshita's whereabouts. No, she must._

Softening the look in my eyes to appear a little apologetic, I turn to Yuigahama.

"This might not be a good time to ask, but I really need to know where she is."

"Why do you even care?"

To my surprise, it's Miura who answers me. But instead of her spiteful tone, she regards me with genuine confusion that even appears on her face.

"Isn't it obvious that she's already going out with Hayato?" she asks.

"The hell are you talking about—" I start, but cut myself off instantly, prying my eyes off Miura to look at Yuigahama. "What happened in the awarding ceremony?"

Yuigahama looks down, a displeased expression appearing on her face. Clearly she doesn't want to be the one explaining this. But I have no choice, Miura is in no state to talk rationally. She's the only one who can answer my questions right now.

"Well... Hayato-kun won first place, for starters. Then he, um..."

Yuigahama's face scrunched up with mixed emotions. Maybe I should let her be, but I need an explanation. "Then, he what?"

"He, um, he got off the stage and walked away without even looking at us, and Yumiko thought there might be some kind of problem..." she sighs, "so we followed him."

"And there he is, being all sweet with that bitch like a good ol' couple."

No longer crying, Miura lets out a self-mocking laugh that echoes around the room. I want to punch something, to take Hayama and throw him off the highest building I can find. And I know it's Hayama. Who else could it have been but him?

A mental image of his smiling face flashes in my brain, and I plead my newly-found inner psychopath to go back inside. "What does she mean?" I ask Yuigahama.

"We haven't really seen the whole thing... but they're talking about the rumor... and, how right now is different from back then..."

Unconsciously, and for the first time, I try to make my mind dive into the place I have forbidden myself to ever visit again. Affection. But this time, I am not involved in it. I imagine watching Yukinoshita going home with Hayama in the very first January 11, with him getting killed instead of me, coming back to save her, becoming her hero, falling for him for all of what he's done, and becoming lovers.

Dating. Marrying. Happily ever after.

It all comes back boiling hot. The hatred for her, for Hayama, for everything, is very real and immediate that it chokes me. Yukinoshita is the one imperiled and I will be her savior. Anything else is unthinkable. No one can take that place from me.

 _Why did it take seeing her die multiple times for me to finally see it?_

Because I am a coward. I am the kind of person who, when he might actually be of use, would run away to stay alive and leave those who couldn't follow to suffer and die. This is the person Yukinoshita met the first time I set foot on the Service Club.

Then suddenly, it dawns on me. The day when Miura gave the club her request. It's like such a long time, but it's all coming back smoothly.

"...So it's about that goddamn rumor, huh?"

No wonder that particular conversation rings a bell.

I think about it for a moment. The rumor about Yukinoshita and Hayama going out. I can't believe it actually slipped my mind. Of course, all these life and death scenarios are just backstage meddling. The original events of this January eleven is still on play, and that includes that current rumor.

The circumstances changed because of me, and in front of me are the actual signs.

Not only did Hayama cancel the party, perhaps my threat caused him to forget to clear out the rumor this time. And to make things worse, his concern for Yukinoshita led him to initiating a private talk with her.

—Which leads to Miura's grave misunderstanding.

"And you think they already are an item just because of that?"

I mumble that to no one in particular, but Miura snorts a small laugh as if each word I said was directed to her.

"Well, Hayato wasn't exactly doing his best to deny the rumor in the first place."

Miura stares at me, trying to convey her thoughts without saying anything. When I raise a brow indicating I am not following, she smiles bitterly and shakes her head.

"You're smart, Hikio. I know you can figure this one out."

"Yeah..." I nod, but before she can look away, I continue. "They aren't going out."

I know that the tension is high when Miura's face contorts with pure anger. She gets up from her chair, toppling it backwards. Then, she dashes right up to me, face red with rage. Sure she wants a fight, but I won't give her one. Fighting leads to damage. And besides, it will be against my principles to hit a girl. So, I just stand in front of her, no movement, but unflinching.

Her face is too close as she scrutinizes me that I can smell her citrus scent. Miura is glaring at me with all she have, while I just stare back, impassive.

"Damn, I take it back. You're actually dumber than I thought. Still deluding yourself, huh? Just what the hell is so great about her?"

She looks at me straight in the eye as she continue.

"Honestly, she could drop dead for all I care."

Upon hearing her words, my heart literally skips a beat.

At first I try to swallow my retort and be done with it, walk out and move on. But that only made it worse. Then I force myself to filter every emotion coursing through me, but every single damn thing is scorching hot and unstoppable.

"...you didn't just say _that_ ," I mutter, my calm tittering on edge.

Miura widens her eyes in surprise, but her anger comes back almost instantly.

"Oh, so you really _are_ into her, huh?"

She inhales deeply, hell itself burning in her eyes.

"Face reality, you disgusting creep! That bitch is out of your reach!"

Echoes of her shout rents the air, and what was once a contained atmosphere becomes polluted with hatred and anger.

I turn to face her fully, whispering words in absolute zero. " _And so is your Hayato_."

Her face visibly falls at that. "You motherfucker..."

How immature. Miura's cursing is weak violence in the air, a way to take the anger from Yukinoshita and transfer all of it to me. She didn't just curse me, her muscles tense and she got right in close for maximum impact.

Funny, she's so alike with Hayama in that regard. Foulmouthed when pressured.

I look at Yuigahama. "Come on. Do you know where Yukinoshita is?"

Yuigahama is tied up on looking back and forth between the two of us. She's not even uttering a single word, can't even nod or shake her head. Clicking my tongue, I turn away from Miura and walk towards Yuigahama's direction.

Then suddenly, Miura yanks on my arm—

"Don't you turn your back on me, Hikio!"

—And all hell break loose.

"MY NAME IS NOT HIKIO!"

I fling my arm to pry her hand off me, but with more force than I intended. Miura retracts her hand in just the right time, but my arm flies straight to my right, colliding to a hard surface. Upon crashing, shattering sounds reach my ears, but it's the least of my worries.

"Can't you even remember someone's name? Are you really _that_ stupid?"

All the rage comes out faster than a boiling magma but just as scorching. It consumed all of what I am, destructive under that carefully ordered world. On the corner of my eye, I can see Yuigahama staring at me with horror. She might not know the beginning of it, but she knows something nevertheless. This person in front of her right now is not the Hikigaya Hachiman who saved her dog.

Burning rage hisses through my body like a deadly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It's like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off me like ferocious waves. The wrath consumes like, engulfing my moralities and destroying the boundaries of my rationality.

Miura's face displays pure terror, an expression I have never seen someone make before, much less from a person like her. It shows not only the fear of the beholder, but the intensity of where the emotion came from. It's reflecting what she's seeing, allowing me to have a brief glimpse of how much ferocity I'm emitting.

"Hik—" Miura stops midway, her face ashen white. "H-Hikigaya..."

Raising my brows slightly, I mutter, "Much better."

"N-no..." she raises a shaky hand and points at me. "Your hand."

As if on cue, pain throbs in my left hand, deep and warm, but not in a nice way. It's as if something is squeezing my flesh either gently or as hard as it can. Every twitch of a muscle feels like a thousand needles piercing through my skin. If it isn't for the anger I have, I would have screamed in agony right up here and now.

I didn't even feel the blood seeping on my own hand until now that I'm looking at it. In the orange glow of the sunlight, my skin is ghostly pale, the blood-streaks almost black, only reddish when the light shines right on them. It didn't take long for me to realize that I just practically bashed the first aid kit cabinet with my bare hand. The glass panes are shattered in pieces and on the ground, smeared with the blood leaking from my injured hand.

No, "injured" doesn't really cut the definition, more like my hand has been mangled by the shattered glasses altogether.

I look up from my hand and there is stillness on both sides. Yuigahama's sheer shock is apparent; from the wound or my sudden shift, I can't tell. Miura stares at me with a mixture that both show fear and concern, no trace of the anger from earlier left.

Then, as if finally recovering, Yuigahama hastily stands up and dashes towards me. I hide my injured hand behind me almost by instinct, and Yuigahama scrunches up her tear-streaked face.

"H-Hikki, your hand."

"Yeah, I know," I sigh, slipping my other hand in the decimated first aid cabinet and pulling out an antiseptic bottle and a box of bandages. "Let me fix this real quick."

It seems like she's about to protest something, so I hold my hand up to stop her.

After that, I walk towards the sink on the corner of the room and twist the tap water open, allowing the coursing water to run with the blood dripping in my hands. As the blood fades away, I am greeted by the cuts my hand has gotten. Hell, there's even a small shard stuck between my thumb and forefinger. I manually pluck it out with a quiet gasp as blood gushes out once again.

While letting the water clean up the remaining blood in my hands, I notice that there is a mirror installed above the sink. I look at it and a monster stares back at me. The kind of horror movie menace that slice open agonized teenagers with a cleaver or a chainsaw. The kind that hang corpses on meat hooks as he watch them swing. I'm a husk, a hollowed out bag of bones with waxy skin that's caked with blood. My hair is matted and clung to my forehead in damp curls. My eyes resemble those which are hollowed out of life, emitting ferocity but dead nonetheless.

 _This is not what I want to be._

"Sorry about that," I say while looking at the two girls reflected at the mirror. Miura ends up sitting close beside Yuigahama while I was not looking. "But you're fading out real fast, you know? You're upset about what you've seen, I get that. But I stand my point. That was just a misunderstanding," I sigh. "Well, it depends on whether you believe me or not. Believe whatever you want, I don't really care. Thing is, I went here because I wanted to see Yukinoshita, but you showed up with your snotty face instead. Still, I've been so kind to go out of my way just to listen to your emotional bullshit, right?"

Once again, anger found me. It seethes inside my chest, boiling hot. It stirs up all my innards with so much force, but I try to contain it, force it to stay inside. As I wipe my hand, I turn around, facing them fully. I uncap the antiseptic bottle and let it pour on the wounds. A wince escapes from me as an unbearable sting jolts in my hands.

"But suddenly," I look at Miura, "you became too much of a bitch for one man to handle. Know what? I don't care anymore. Oh wait, hang on a second."

I pause and spare a glance at Yuigahama who's looking at me with a pair of disbelieving eyes.

"Yuigahama, I know what you're thinking. I should what? Not be so harsh? Okay. But I went to hell and back just to explain all this with a good amount of sense to her and she ends up accusing me of being delusional. Oh sure, what if those two really are a thing? Right, maybe they really are, and she decided to be so hysterical about the thought because it stings a lot when shoved to her face. _It's soooo annoying, you know?_ "

Words fly from my mouth that I never thought I would even say out loud. Of course, I know instantly from the look in Yuigahama's eyes that they'd hit their mark. In that moment, something in our undefined relationship shattered like the first aid cabinet beside me. Nothing would ever be the same with the two of us again.

A sharp pang of guilt bites me in the chest, and I look at Miura to distract myself.

"Tell you what, the world won't bend on your whims, and you can never get anything you wished for. It's not Yukinoshita's fault if ever Hayama falls for her..."

My voice drops in both volume and temperature.

" _...It's yours for not being likable enough in his eyes_."

Both of their eyes widen, and I finish sticking half a dozen bandages in my hand and pin it tight in place. Fresh tears start to roll on Miura's face once again.

I walk towards the door, pretending not to see the accusation on Yuigahama's face.

"Let's leave it for today, all right? I have a ton of things to do. Plus, I'm feeling really, really pissed off. Let's start afresh some other time in the future, like this little spat never happened, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, I put my hand on the knob. But then, a sadistic voice whispers in my mind, and before I realize it, I am looking towards Miura once again.

"Oh, and by the way, Hayama is picking the Liberal Arts..."

For the first time since I enter this room, a grin crosses my face.

"Though I doubt it would be of any use to you right now."

 **~※~**

The anger I have before leaving the infirmary dissipates into thin air and I'm halfway down the school gates before I begin to question just where the hell am I even heading off to. I practically have no idea about where I should go, but my brain is screaming at my body to run as fast as it can. Still, that would be stupid so I force myself not to, just settling on keeping my feet on going forward, quickening my pace to an almost-run.

 _She's fine_ , I keep telling myself. _She's really fine. Yukinoshita just needs someone to watch her back and everything will be all right._

I search around the area once again, but there's still no sign of her. The air is strangely warm, or maybe it's just that I don't normally move this fast.

I run through the list of places where I could find her. Her classroom, the club room, the locker rooms. But no luck, she's nowhere to be seen. As I scan the people in the gates, I suddenly get the feeling that she must have left the school already. I start to walk amongst the other students, my eyes darting more wildly with each passing second, wishing for her figure to make a sudden appearance.

Then, it suddenly occur to me. _Hayama talked to her after the marathon, right? She must be with him_. I fumble for my phone in my pocket, unlock it, and raise a brow in the realization that I have an unread message waiting on my inbox.

It's from an unknown number, but I already know whom it came from by just looking at it.

—Because I called this exact same number not so long ago.

I click on it and the whole message comes on view.

[Now's the time. Can't stay longer. Parents picked me up.]

My feet stop moving, eyes glued on the screen. The fact that it was sent twenty minutes ago is not helping my case at all.

[Act your words. You want to look after her, do it now. She's off to somewhere. There are guards, but we must be careful. Don't ask why. It's all on Haruno. I've no idea what's going on in that woman's head.]

Once again, anger finds me. It whispers to me in its growling voice. It tells my hair to stand on end and my heart to pound.

[She's meeting Haruno somewhere. I'll give you the address, but in case you know this place already...]

Time stops. Everything is blurred. Every sound muffled. And by the time I realize it, my body has set off to motion. Completely driven by panic, my legs starts running on it's own.

[…it's a pub three blocks away from the school.]

I try to avert my eyes from it, but the flashes of traumatic memories are so intense I can't do anything. It's like a rampaging tsunami, destroying everything, snagging what little amount of composure I have left.

My feet slip outwards on the pavements as I sprint along the streets, the steely late afternoon air sending hot waves in my lungs. Each step makes my breathing erratic. With each footfall, a strong impact shoots from my ankle to my knee. This is nothing like the way I run from the marathon earlier. It's no simple running. This is desperation. My heart beats frantically. All or nothing. Fail and my whole plan will pay the price. I need to find and stop that girl from coming back to that place.

Chasing somebody is nothing like in the movies. The actors look awesome, heroic and in command of the situation. In reality, it's far from that pretty choreographed version. My very soul crashes into the asphalt a few times before I transition to the balls of my feet. My face is flushed red and my expression is just pure panic.

And just when I think that the situation is dire already—

"...eh?"

A single drop of cold liquid falls on my cheek.

Then two, three, then a dozen.

And before I can even comprehend what's going on, a sudden downpour falls from the sky and straight to my face.

My feet stop on moving and I watch, dumbstruck as the streets that is once tinted with the blood red light of the setting sun is now blurred by the heavy drops of rain. The busy atmosphere transitions into frantic in an instant. Everyone have their heads down and moving at maximum speed. Those with umbrellas are already well-shielded, while the rest without hurries up to take cover.

Despite of being completely drenched in just a matter of seconds, I stand in the middle of the sidewalk, not moving an inch. Now, labeling Yukinoshita suddenly being missing as a huge turn of events feels like an overstatement. I have been through this same day in four consecutive repetitions already. From the pop quiz in first period, to Yukinoshita retiring midway during the marathon, name it. After reliving this same day multiple times, I already grasped how the trivial details will pan out.

But I was dreadfully wrong.

Because for the very first time after the four iterations of January eleven – _it rained_. No, it isn't just rain, it's a downpour that can compete with the one I ran through the first time I woke up from a loop. Even walking though a waterfall couldn't get me any wetter.

Then, just like the rain, the reality of my current situation washes over me.

This version of January eleven is drastically changing, that much is clear. Even the weather itself has changed. But, with regards about it being for better or for worse, I have absolutely no idea.

I just know that this rain would be a complete hassle for me.

The sound of traffic on wet road is almost lost against the rapid beating of my heart. A moment later, as if reminding me of its existence, the downpour becomes harsher, numbing and freezing my skin on contact. The path through the pub has become muddy, filling deep puddles that hide the ruts of dryer weather. No doubt it will make it harder for me to keep moving. With these shoes and having no umbrella, I will just reenact the same scene back then that led me to passing out.

But I must move, no matter what the circumstances are. This rain is nothing compared to the bullet that will pierce though Yukinoshita's skull, nothing compared to the truck that will crush her into pieces. I have to run, for this is all I can do to stop all that tragedy from happening.

I attempted to run once more—

But my legs betray me the next second and I collapse into the wet paving stones. It's a solid fall, my knees hitting the ground hard, only softening the impact with my elbows, which I'm sure are now grazed. For a moment, it's impossible to breathe. All of my air has been taken out. I feel like I would suffocate before I even get the chance to pull myself up.

Collapsing in the middle of the rain. Pathetic, but it appears I have a talent in that field. It may have been the backlash of my running in the marathon, the exhaustion taking its toll on me. But it feels different. It's hard to explain, but the disturbance I am having right now is not at all connected to my physical state. More like it's my mentality that's being distressed. Everything is blurred and swirling, and thinking of anything except of how pitiful I am is excruciating. I will my legs to move again but they won't.

This cloudburst shocked me more than I would like to admit.

Some of the circumstances can be changed. Hell, even weather proved that it can change itself. But what about Yukinoshita's death? Can that be changed? Yes, I manage to take the bullet for her sake in the first loop. But who can say that the bastard didn't come back to finish her off as well? Besides that, what if everything I have done so far only worsen the final outcome of things? What if instead of just dying quickly by being shot, my meddling causes her to face a more gruesome death?

Now that I think about it, that particular idea is actually likely.

Third loop ended in the most horrible way possible.

And that was all because of me.

I strive forward to save a single girl, but at the end of the day, my interference only made things worse — for both her and the people she cares about.

Then it starts to consume me. I begin to feel anxious about every single thing, scared that all I have laid out and worked on so far would be in vain. Do I think it would be in vain? No, I don't. But a small part inside me is terrified about the fact that I still don't have the complete knowledge of this day that I thought I already have. I mean, even the weather itself has changed. So who can say that it's not a sign that something more crucial changed? Who can say that, instead of being late this evening, Yukinoshita gets killed right up here and now? Who can say that she won't get run over by a truck on the way back to the pub, or be shot by a random person walking behind her?

Who can say that she's still alive at this very moment?

Who can say that she's not already dead?

Sense comes back to me. Not the one that allows me to have a clear mind, but enough to recognize my surroundings. There are voices around me, both concerned and curious, but none dares to approach. The wind is bellowing and the rain is dropping like a madman. It takes me a moment to realize that I have been kneeling in the sidewalk – while raining – this entire time.

Indeed, I'm so pathetic. My thoughts and actions are divergent, and not in a good way. They tread in the same road but in the opposite direction. My thoughts screams the words of the valiant protector, yet when push comes to shove I fall to my knees. Over and over, I'm left with nothing but regret to torment me, draining no matter what amount of motivation left. I excel with my thoughts, but fail with my actions - actions that fail on me more easily than leaves fall from trees. But why can't I just let go? Why can't I just give up? Is it pride? Guilt? Am I just confused? Or do I just not see my past failures for what they actually are, that they are a symbol that I am not fit for this job ever since the beginning?

Either way, maybe I should just stop trying to figure it out.

After all, there's no hope here. What the hell was I even doing? I can't even keep track on Yukinoshita. What a failure. This loop's a failure. I am a failure.

Yukinoshita will die even before she reaches the pub.

 _Please_ , I close my eyes. _Just make it painless, make it quick._

Then suddenly, a shadow looms over my body and the rain stops. No, the rain hasn't stopped. Only the raindrops are not reaching me.

I look up and there's an umbrella above me, spread out and shielding me from the rain.

Upon the umbrella is the rhythm of the rain, each drop a clear beat upon the cerise fabric. There is something about being under it that makes me feel as if I am flying instead of lying helpless in the ground. As my hands tighten into a fist, an odd feeling courses through my chest.

"What do you think you're doing," says the very familiar voice from behind me. "If you want to look pathetic so badly, do it somewhere I can't see."

Drops cascade from the umbrella rim like a miniature waterfall. I allow myself to watch them for a brief moment. Oddly enough, it gives me a strange feeling of security. I imagine myself being the one saved instead of being the savior. The thought feels like a scene from a children's book. Ambitious and impossible. That is the role I won't be able to have, even if I desire it so much. I will always be the scapegoat, the martyr, the one dying horribly for others.

Yet the small part of me that remained in that feeling calls for my attention, for upon the incessant drumming of the rain is reassurance that makes me content. For a moment, I'm normal. A naive, ignorant high school brat who slipped in the rain, not someone who runs rampant like a madman in order to save someone's life.

After sighing deeply, I force myself to stand up. I feel lost and confused, but happy and certain. I'm like a ball of tangled yarn. The parts that are untangled are available, usable, while the rest is a mess, useless until it's untied.

I turn around and there she is, alive, breathing, beautiful.

"Yukinoshita..." In my face forms a smile. Emotions swirls like water circling on cold metal drain. "Fancy meeting you here."

A hint of smile crosses her face, but her worry is apparent.

The umbrella creates a shield around us. It's a little small for the two of us to share, but she's still tilting it more to my side so her back is unprotected. It's nice to see that she's trying to cover me from the rain, but I'm already soaked so it doesn't make sense.

I push the umbrella closer to her and raise a hand before she protests. "I'm drenched already. Go cover yourself."

She relents and covers herself more, but still keeping a good portion for me. I find her stubbornness quite amusing. Turning around, I look for a place where we could take refugee on. Luckily, there's an empty waiting shed just a few steps away from us. My body moves faster than my brain, and before I could stop myself, I already have Yukinoshita's free hand in mine, and pull her towards the shed.

Upon looking, it doesn't come as a surprise that her face is beet red. I wipe my forehead, exhausted. My legs give up by the time we reach the shed and I collapse onto the bench. The beating on my chest begins to pace back to normal. My hair is matted with rainwater, my elbows bruised and my clothes looked like rags, wet and soaked. Even the bandages I have on my left hand are slightly peeling off.

The rain shows no sign of stopping, and the street is bleak in the curtain of rainfall. The sidewalks are all puddled, and splashes resound from every direction. I look by my side and find Yukinoshita sitting beside me, her folded umbrella on her hand.

Okay, this might be the time when you will expect her to pull out her handkerchief and starts drying me with it. You're right, she pulls out her handkerchief, only did she not use it to dry me – but to dry herself. She's not entirely drenched like me, so she just dabs at her blazer and sleeves.

Upon realizing that I've been staring too much, I quickly look away and fumble for my own handkerchief, only to find it dripping like the rest of me.

"Here," Yukinoshita mumbles, placing her handkerchief to my lap. "Dry yourself."

I'm not really opposed to the idea of drying myself, but no one can't blame me to be reluctant if she offers me to use the same handkerchief she used to dry herself. Besides, it's not like this tiny thing would be of use at all. Being this wet, I'm going to need a bath towel to completely dry myself.

"No, thanks." I hand the piece of cloth back at her.

She raises a brow and looks squarely at me, then nods as she return the handkerchief to her skirt pocket.

"It wouldn't be of use to you, anyway," she shrugs. "Suit yourself then."

Not persistent at all. It reminds me that this woman is the complete opposite of Yuigahama, which is the nice girl. I don't mean to say that Yukinoshita is a bad person, she's way too righteous. What I mean is, she has the virtue to help, but she's also realistic with the way she does it. She won't be stubborn, instead, she will prove her point once and it's all up to you to accept it. Her shielding me with an umbrella from the rain is already something coming from her, and she even offered me her handkerchief, which is a huge step forward.

"Wait a second."

Yukinoshita's surprised voice shakes me out of my trance.

"Your hand, Hikigaya-kun..." She awkwardly takes my injured hand to examine it. "This... this is a lot. Where did you get these cuts?"

Feeling her cold fingers in my hand is unnerving, so I take it back. She lets go of it gently, a concerned look in her face.

"A little accident after the marathon."

"And it seems you didn't tend to it properly," she mutters, pressing a finger to her temple. "Do you even know how to _properly_ disinfect a wound?"

"Of course," I shrug. "I saw you do it."

She blinks. "Really? When?"

"Oh..." I mentally face-palm myself. "No, forget about it."

She looks curious, but lets it drop nonetheless.

"If I ask you why you're kneeling in the middle of the rain..." she's looking away, her long, black hair preventing me from seeing her face, "would you tell me?"

I look at her apathetically. "I ran and slipped, that's it."

"I see..." she smiles. "You have awful timing, or awful luck, awful eyes, or perhaps—"

"My personality, my attitude, everything about me is awful."

The rain floats in gentle waves, as if gravity is a soft music, a sweet, calming lullaby. Each drop bequeaths itself unto the cooling air. Together, they paint a new picture around us, an image that gives me a new perspective of this day. Really, I still can't believe that it's actually raining on the afternoon of this version of January eleven.

"Hikigaya-kun, I'm just wondering..."

Suddenly, Yukinoshita speaks from beside me, her eyes trained on mine.

"Have you ever told someone you're not okay before?"

Light streams into her face, as if it's a stage spotlight, and in those eyes bloom an emotion that pulls a chord within me. Yukinoshita raises a brow, waiting for my answer.

"Well, Komachi can notice when I'm troubled most of the time. She's persistent too. She'll pester me for the whole day, and in the end, I'll relent and tell her everything."

"No, not to that degree. What I mean is..." she sighs, "was there a time when you told someone about your problems without being asked about it?"

I avert my eyes. "There are times when I tell Komachi..."

As expected, Yukinoshita doesn't find my answer sufficient.

"Seems like you don't understand my point," she shakes her head. "For example, have you ever told someone about the pain when you're hurting? Instead of just complaining, have you ever tried to talk to someone, in the hopes that they would understand?"

Yukinoshita sure is unusually talkative today. "What brought this topic up?"

"Nothing, really. Just curious." And unusually curious about me too, apparently.

Looking at her, I try to discern her thoughts. But even though how much I dig through the layers of her stoic expression, all I can unravel is just pure concern and curiosity.

"You should know my answer more than anyone," I mumble, after a brief moment of silence.

She glances at me, a knowing look in her eyes, but says nothing.

After breathing deeply, I continue.

"What good would it bring to involve someone? Perhaps by telling somebody else, it lessens the burden. But in the end, that's just figuratively. Sharing the load doesn't necessarily make things easier. You're just adding another entry to the list of hurting people. Telling the people who cares for you about the pain will only hurt them. If you really care about them, you'd be willing to shoulder all of the burden alone."

Upon hearing what I have to say, Yukinoshita nods. "You have a point," she looks at me. "Although that's completely different from what you told me before."

"What are you talking about?"

"Seems like you forgot already..." she narrows her and gives me a reproachful look. "There was a time when you lectured me about how wrong I was handling things."

For a moment, I wonder why her words sound familiar. Then, it dawns on me. "The cultural festival..." I mutter, and she nods.

It all comes back to me like a playback video. The memory is all hazy as if it comes from my previous life, like it happened a long time ago. But in reality, it's just months since. Looking back, I feel baffled to find myself comparing my current self to the Hikigaya Hachiman from before. Past me, without a doubt, is a complete imbecile, only complaining about how working is equivalent to losing. What a total idiot. Working is living itself, and to lose is dying.

Really, if I can just go back and give that brat a good smack in the head.

Or a shove off the stairs. Not like he's going to die, anyway.

After a while, Yukinoshita clears her throat to get my attention.

"That time," she says with a forlorn look, "you told me how idealistic the supposed perfect solutions are. How the world won't run on that alone. How someone out there will always either take advantage or be taken advantage of."

Part of me is amazed that she actually remembers it. But I try to keep my face impassive. "What about it?"

"Would you listen if I say the same thing to you?" Yukinoshita looks away, but her words hit me straight. "Would you listen to me if I tell you that the way you're doing things now is wrong?"

"So, do you know the right way to do things?" I feel like I have to throw those words back, so I did.

"You know I don't," she says, "and you're the one who told me once about how wrong I was."

I frown. "Then what's the point of asking me about it?"

A hint of smile crosses her face. Reflected on her eyes is the reddish light of the setting sun. I didn't even notice that the rain has stopped already.

"To make you understand." Her voice has a lot of conviction put into it. "To make you realize that what you're doing now is not different from what I did."

"You talk as if you know what I'm doing."

Part of me is worried that I am right, that she already knows. The worry is evident in my voice as I speak, and by the way Yukinoshita's eyes harden, I can sense she noticed it.

"I wish I do. But I don't." Almost in an instant, her expression softens visibly. "And I'm so worried because..."

At first, I though she won't continue. Yukinoshita is a person who never explains why she do things. Common sense does it for her. But now, that's not the case. Yukinoshita looks at me, eyes occasionally darting away, uncertain.

"Because..." blood runs on her pale face, reddening her cheeks, "on that time, before the marathon... you looked so anguished. I have never seen you like that before."

She stares at me with so much intensity in her eyes that I have to flinch back.

"Why are you apologizing to me like that, Hikigaya-kun?"

My tongue gets stuck in my throat. "That's... that's nothing."

Frustration appears on her face, but she vanishes it with a shake of her head. "There's something going on, isn't it?"

Words come out faster than my mind could think. "Yeah, there is," I answer before I could stop myself. To gloss it off, I hastily add, "But I'd rather not tell you. Sorry."

With my concentration wearing thin, I might make another mistake like before. I'm aware that my words are more than unreliable. Now, what would happen if I told her about our situation? For example, what if I told her that her life is in danger? She would certainly feel guilty for endangering the people trying to protect her and set off on her own.

I can never let that happen. She must survive no matter what.

"May I ask why you wouldn't tell me?"

Without skipping a beat, I answer, "Because I don't want to tell you. I don't want you to know. It's better that way."

As I look away, I expect her biting words to come, as cold as ice and as sharp as blade. But none came, and I become anxious.

Instead, "Hey..." she calls me.

And asks, "You are... Hikigaya-kun, right?"

Her words doesn't affect me more than I thought it should. I'm shocked, yes, but the feeling doesn't linger. To be honest, even I don't know how to answer that. Am I still me?

"What do you think?" I ask her, more composed than how I feel inside. A small, stupid part inside me is actually expecting her to give me the answer I want to hear.

She averts her eyes, "...I don't know. Just forget about it."

I face the road, my face blank but my fists closed so tight I can feel the blood-flow being stopped inside them. Yukinoshita rises from the bench, smooths her skirt, and looks at me.

"I have to go, Hikigaya-kun."

I nod mutely, stand up, and look at her straight in the eye. She averts her eyes, a faint hint of blush on her cheeks.

She clears her throat, probably to distract herself. "You best be on your way now, too. You'll catch a cold."

No, I think I already have a cold. "Where are you going?" I ask, preventing a sneeze from coming out.

Yukinoshita raises a brow, curiosity apparent on her face. She must be wondering why I even care about where she's off to. Usually, we would just part ways after saying goodbye.

She waits for me to add an explanation, but I say nothing more. After shrugging, she folds her umbrella and glances at me with a look of dissatisfaction on her face.

"Nee-san wants to talk about important matters. I don't really want to go, but she sounds serious, and I'm curious."

Haruno. Again and again, over and over. No matter how many times I try, I can never grasp the nature of that woman's head. It's clear that she knows about the threat on Yukinoshita's life, so why would she risk having her strolling all alone? What could be her reason? Didn't she told me once that she'd raise merry hell should it reach her ears that her sister's life is on danger? I thought that by risking myself by threatening both Yukinoshita and Hayama, it could increase her chances of survival. I thought that by taking the role of the substitute villain, it would increase the security around Yukinoshita. But it didn't. Instead, Haruno is doing something unthinkable again.

"Don't go back to that pub."

Suspicion rises on Yukinoshita's face faster than it takes for me to realize what I have just blurted out. _Damn, I'm not supposed to know that she's going to the pub, am I?_

"Go back? I haven't even been there— and how did you know?"

Words abandon me, and I'm left without any alibi prepared. As I said earlier, my words really will be the death of me. _Fuck all these slip ups. Why do I always make things difficult for myself?_

I clear my throat to buy some time, look away, then far off from the distance, I see it coming.

Purposely ignoring the girl who is impatiently waiting for my answer, I turn around.

Then, the Yukinoshita's limousine parks in front of us.

The car's door opens, and there's Haruno, grinning.

"Wow," she chirps. "You look sexy when wet, Hikigaya-kun."

Pretending to not hear the surprised gasp from Yukinoshita, I take a short step forward.

"About time," I hiss through gritted teeth. "I thought you were just playing around."

"Oh?" A mysterious glint flashes in her eyes. "I always handle things seriously. Maybe you just have no idea what I really have in mind."

There's a slicing edge in the air. Thick and suffocating.

"Whatever. Just do your job and take her home."

Her grin fades, replaced by a thin line slicing her face. "You look quite a bit on edge, Hikigaya-kun."

"No shit," I turn away. "See you around, Haruno."

"First name basis now, eh?" she beams. "When did you start calling me like that?"

 _Before you explode into pieces on another timeline._

I look at Yukinoshita. Her eyes are wide, alarmed. I turn back, take a step away. Maybe I should say goodbye to the both of them, in case another unforeseen tragedy happens. But I just keep on walking and walking until I turn a corner.

I wish I could feel guilty for making Yukinoshita see that nasty side of me.

I wish I could feel bad for the way I acted toward Haruno who once died because of me.

Thing is, I don't.

I look down, suppressing the surge of negative emotions brewing in my chest, and somebody taps me in the shoulder.

"Hikigaya Hachiman?"

An older woman dressed in a boxy blue suit gives me a polite, professional smile. Her familiar voice ring the alarm bells in me.

"Naruse Jun. Chiba Police. I want to ask you some questions about your schoolmates Hayama Hayato and Yukinoshita Yukino. Could you come to the station with me for a few minutes?"

* * *

 **Note: I honestly enjoy writing this kind of Hachiman. Anw, the initial length of this chapter is too damn long, so I cut it into two parts.**


	12. Chapter 12

**And so, the whole chapter got divided into three parts instead of just two. Reason is that I want each of the scenes I love the most to carry out a whole chapter, not just be comprised on a bulk of 15K or so words. Yes, buddy. I realize that I prefer chapters to be short but intense. Doesn't mean that chapters are going to be short from now on, though. I don't really have a fixed word count. If it comes out long and nice, then it stays as is.**

 **Oh, and btw, to CMY187 and the others:**

 **Bet you've never wished so much for 8man to die until now, haven't ya? (grins)**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Twelve_**

* * *

One of the good things I got in return after dying multiple times is that my sense of surprise have dulled a little. That doesn't necessarily mean I developed a complete immunity to being shocked, though. I can still be affected by the freakiest of things.

And besides, meeting a policewoman asking for your time is not something that happens everyday, and is definitely something to be worried about.

"Could you come to the station with me for a few minutes?"

A woman clad in a blue suit stands in front of me. Seems a bit young to be a police officer. Must be on her mid-twenties, but sharp-looking enough to be intimidating. She told me her name is Naruse Jun, that she's a police, and that she wants me to come with her to the station. There's tension, of course, but I'm composed enough to remain looking calm. I keep the curious and slightly alarmed look on my face just for the hell of it. _Gotta look convincing. Look innocent._

"Isn't it— I mean, can't we talk here?"

She frowns with a kind smile on her face. "So crowded, don't you think? Don't worry, we're just around the corner."

The moment she told me to come with her to the station, I become dead-set not to. No way in hell I would go. Not now. Not when this January eleven is still not over.

"Ah, really sorry," I bow apologetically. "But I can't afford going anywhere else right now. I've got to go home."

"Good," she smiles. "I can give you a ride home. We can talk while on the way."

In the shade of the blood-red sun, the sight of a striking presence of a car sends my heart at its highest rate. The blue and red lights installed on the roof aren't blinking, only emitting illuminations in the slightly dulling light. It's frightening to believe, but parked in front of us is the black bodywork of a police car. It waits on us like a loyal dullahan, a harbinger of the worse things to come.

For a moment, I weigh my choices. First one is to refuse and walk out. I keep in mind that she's inviting me, not arresting. It's a proof that I'm under suspicion, but not bad enough to require extreme measures. However, if I refuse, it will look like I'm trying to hide something, which will result to worsening the suspicion on me. Needless to say, I need to cross out option one. Unfortunately, I only have to options, so I choose to go with the latter as soon as I discard the former.

"Okay, sure. Thanks."

Option two: just get along with it, but be careful.

The car is subtle-looking, not the kind I have expected. Basically, it's just a normal car with police blinkers attached to it. It sits squat to the rain washed tarmac, its black paint sun-bleached with age. If this isn't such a very dire time, I would admire it as a classic, something you rarely see these days. Not today, though. Now is the time to transform from a rampaging berserker to an innocent teenager.

Both of us trudge toward the car, one professional-looking, the other dripping wet. She opens the door on the driver's seat, hops in and opens the other door for me. Good lord, I'm wet as a loofah, and I won't really feel too comfortable planting myself on a leather seat in this state. Ms. Officer notices this, nods knowingly, rummages on a bag in the backseat and hands me a bath towel. A pink Hello Kitty bath towel. Oh, great. Just the kind you need when you're about to be interrogated inside a police car.

I raise a brow, but accept it gratefully. While wondering just what the hell is this pink bath towel doing on a police car's back seat, I begin to dry myself. The towel has a homey smell to it, allowing me to ease my nerves a little. After I finish, I drape the towel around me like a cape to keep myself warm, then I hop in as well.

To hell with being in the strangest place possible. Who would have expected to find me sitting inside a police car, wet as hell, and with Hello Kitties wrapped around me? The car's interior has a faint smell of cigarette, lemon freshener, and something akin to a smell I smelled before but couldn't identify. The scent of panic, perhaps.

I tell her my address and we both fasten our seat-belts, but she doesn't start the car right away. Ms. Officer turns the radio down, muting the low drumming of a familiar beat surrounding the car. Then, she looks at me, and with a tone that reminds me of someone I talked to just recently, she speaks.

"First, I want you to know that this is not a custodial interrogation," she intones in her professional-sounding voice. "Meaning, you don't have to answer my questions and you are free to leave at any time. Do you understand?"

 _Can I leave now?_ "All right." I nod, like a good child.

"Good. I hope you'll be cooperative, though. Listen up here now. I will be telling you something classified that I shouldn't be really telling to a teenager like you. I know this might be much, but I need your attention— and honesty, if you can spare me some. Okay?"

 _Attention? Cool. Honesty? Don't think so_. "Sure."

She steps up and the car starts moving. We're both silent for a moment. Not until we reach a red light. "Just this morning," she begins as she put the car on neutral,"we received a tip about an impending murder attempt. Pretty suspicious, isn't it?"

No time for mulling. Quick thinking is a must. Answer as sincere or as indifferent as possible. Let her handle the mood, just carefully get along.

"Yeah," I shrug. "Might be a prank, though."

She nods. "Might be a prank, yes. But here's the thing. Not so long ago, we received a report about a death threat concerning the same person and another."

She's basically enumerating all of the things I have done. It's a great feat that I can still remain impassive even after that. _How does she expect me to react? Agitated? Scared? Twitchy?_ In fact, I am all of the above, but I get a bad feeling that choosing to react like that will make things harder for me.

I raise a brow. "Weird coincidence. But what's that got to do with this?"

Better sound cheeky than guilty. An irritated police is a lot better than a dubious one. Unfortunately, my indifference doesn't faze her in the slightest. This woman is blank, completely blank. An empty page. Tabula Rasa. No sign of any emotion except for an obligatory polite and professional air. Trying to read her is giving me dyslexia.

The light turns green and we start moving again. "You're associated to both persons involved in our case. I'm hoping that your statements would be helpful."

"Right."

"First one is about the tip on a murder attempt. It's about Yukinoshita Yukino, an associate of yours."

 _You're supposed to know about this_ , I remind myself. Hayama told me and he must have informed Haruno about my awareness of the situation. _Admit it. Don't pretend. You know this._ This woman is likely baiting me with this information. If she is aware that I have knowledge of the situation, she must be doing this in the hopes that I will lie, in which will prove that I am hiding something, and therefore, a suspect.

Almost automatically, I nod. "Okay."

"You don't seem surprised about the news."

"Well, that's because I already knew about it."

A flash of skepticism. Brief, but noticeable. "Could you tell me how you got this information?"

"Someone tweeted about it."

Her face falls. "And here I am hoping that you will be cooperative."

"Let's just say I don't fully trust a policewoman who shows up out of nowhere just to interrogate me."

We both stay silent for a moment. Only my Hello Kitties are smiling right now.

"Like I said, this is not a—"

"—a custodial interrogation, yeah, but interrogation nonetheless."

It's never good news when a police asks you indirect questions about the crimes you just recently committed. It's even worse when they request you to come with them to the station. In that moment, they will try their hardest to be human and all you see is the boxy blue uniform and the shiny shoes. Then, with their soft-spoken words, they will pull all of your secrets out for everyone to see. The police are not supposed to be a threat to innocent people. That's the problem there; I'm anything but innocent. In my case, policemen can be helpful, but dangerous.

To be honest, I'm not feeling so guilty about being rude and dishonest towards this woman. I don't know her; she don't know me. At some point, we are enemies. She's a police officer, while I'm a high school student with crimes yet to be charged — not like she knows about it. Not like she will ever know.

After an uncomfortable bout of silence, she mumbles, "For a high school student, you sure are taking this so well."

Then out of the blue, she gives this huge declaration and a chill lays on my skin like a cold touch of a finger. _No shit, Officer. I already know that. I really do._ For a meager teenager, it's obvious that I sure am getting used to all these gray stuff. Hell, giving someone a death threat to save another person is not something that people in my age think nowadays.

However, giving my reasons to her won't help my case in the slightest, so I keep my mouth shut. She realizes that I won't give any comment, smiles bitterly, and focuses on the road again.

"The second one is about the death threat report," she says, now back to her flat voice. "It's from a classmate of yours, Hayama Hayato. He received a death threat before your school marathon began, told his parents about it, and reported to us."

"Okay." I feel like I have to change this topic, quick. Talking about my shenanigans is not something I need right now. "So, what's all these got to do with me being inside a police car?"

"We're getting there," she smiles patiently. "I just want you to answer a few more of my questions for a moment. Want some cookie?"

She rummages her bag and hands me a box of Oreos. I feel like an idiot accepting it, but I nod as I take four from the box. This, right here, is what I truly need right now.

"I happen to see you running frantically just a while ago."

Then, she suddenly speaks, and my comfort proves to be short-lived.

She looks at me with an unnerving pair of calculative eyes. "Why were you running in the middle of the rain? Could it be that you were being chased... or were you chasing somebody?"

I shrug. "Dumb reason, actually. I got all hyped-up in the marathon and ran even after it ended."

"And those cuts in your hand?"

I lick off the cream. "Tiny accident."

"You should check that up on a doctor," she glances at my injured hand. "Maybe you should have stayed longer in the infirmary until the school nurse came by."

Merciful gods. This woman is dangerous. For a second, the thought of her following me the whole day crosses my paranoid mind. Not funny at all, since the thought is highly possible. It's no coincidence that she saw me running frantically in search for Yukinoshita. Now, it's also no coincidence that she knows something about the little episode in the infirmary. This woman is letting up less than she knows.

Hell, it's possible that she's not just some random officer. Unreadable and sharp.

I grimace. "Never pegged a _detective_ to be my stalker."

A snicker so silent comes out from her direction I almost doubt if I even heard it.

"Because of all these suspicious cases, we sent some people to check up on your school to see if we could find any leads. Strangely enough, what we found in the infirmary is a blond girl who seemed traumatized enough to not be able to speak coherently, and a ruined first aid cabinet with smears of blood in it. It's not a sight you normally see on school infirmaries, right?"

I can't breathe properly, but I manage to give a nod. Now, it's official. She is not the only one who knows about my violent behavior in the infirmary, but her co-workers, too. Policemen; people who are more than excited to see what's in it on this case.

My mistake now slaps me back in the face. Instead of tormenting Miura, I should've just left and looked for Yukinoshita. Nothing else matters except my stupidity in black and white for every police to see. Not to mention that this woman knows about all of it, and it's obvious that she will go as far as to exploit it for her own use.

Her expression is soft, her voice motherly, but the aura around her emits ominous intent. The look in her eyes reminds me of the one I sometimes see in Haruno's, and it's chilling me to the bones. A caramel-coated hook is the worst kind of bait.

"Could you tell me why you broke the cabinet with your bare hand?" she asks, and I stiffen by instinct. Fuck. I hate this. I wanna go home. She looks at me on the corner of her eye and sighs. "Let me rephrase it..." Her voice comes back to her police officer-tone. "What had caused you to break the cabinet in the first place? Was it panic? Anger? Do you have times when you find yourself suddenly behaving violently?"

Man, she just gave an indirect question about me being a psycho. Well shit, as much as I hate to admit, maybe I really am. Not a full-blown crack pot, but it's there. Oh, boy, it's always there. It just needs some kind of a trigger and off my demon will go.

"I had an argument with someone, swung my hand out in the heat of the moment, and smashed the cabinet by accident."

"Argument? Do you mean that blond girl we found crying in the infirmary? Well, I'm a bit intrigued on what kind of argument you two had for her to react like that."

A pang of guilt stabs me, but I ignore it. "That's a personal matter."

"I understand," she nods. "Now then, on to the main point." Hold on, there's a main point? "What were you doing on the central square early this morning?"

To hell with faking my reactions. I allow my face to be blank, completely devoid of emotion. "I left my phone at home, so I used a phone booth to call someone."

Ugh. Liar's block. Kinda like writer's block, but fucking more intense. If you run out of options, just flat out tell the entire truth at first, then start making shit up on the way. Lying is a lot more like writing in some way... but fucking more intense.

"So you used a phone booth?"

"I used a phone booth."

"Could you tell me who was it you called?"

 _You, actually._ "Personal."

"Right. Next. Where were you before the marathon began?"

 _Scaring the shit out of Hayama._ "I was talking to a friend."

"Over the phone?"

"No. Personally."

"Could you give me a name?"

"No, sorry. That friend of mine is pretty bad with people."

 _You should have thought twice before you told me that I have rights NOT to answer your questions, Ms. Officer._

Saying that the atmosphere becomes "tense" is an understatement. Ms. Officer's face shows a suppressed sign of frustration in just a second. It vanishes quickly, but it still leaves a lingering effect on me. So far, all that I have told her is a cocktail of lies, half-truths and lame attempts of humor. My pulse is racing as we reach my street.

I munch on my last Oreo. "Right here's fine."

She hits the brake. "Huh? But your address is—"

"My sister will throw a fit if she sees me pulling over a police car."

I already have too much in my table, and a freaked-out Komachi is not something I would appreciate right now. Damn, I also have to check up on Yukinoshita. My hand is already on the door handle when Ms. Officer calls out to me. Her face looks very relaxed, composed. The complete opposite of mine.

"I'm guessing this is your first encounter with a police?"

Slightly curious, I offer a curt nod.

"At this age, most people your age should at least have the general knowledge of how these kinds of procedure pan out, with the internet and media and all. You at least should have read crime novels before, right? You should be aware that for an officer, I am being too mellow on you, right? Too kind. Too forgiving. Blame my noobie position for that. I'm new in this field, you know? And I'm already breaking lots of rules just by talking to you right now. You know, I'm not really allowed to ask questions to you without an adult to watch over on your behalf in case you become intimated— which is uncalled for, obviously, since you're such a natural."

When I quirk a brow, she mutters, "My sense is, I did that because I'm doing you a favor. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but my colleagues are suspecting you as the prime culprit. You were in the scenes of crime, not to mention that certain people said that you were behaving strangely since this morning."

I have watched enough crime movies to know that warning a potential suspect is not something police officers should do. It's betrayal on her colleagues, but she chose to do it regardless. This alarms me the most. A police officer who sticks with rules I can somehow handle. But a cunning one? A curious newbie who's excited enough to tread uncharted territories? No. This is trouble on a different level.

"After they officially label you as the prime suspect, they will focus on you, search for evidence that will allow them to put you into custody. Investigate more until they can press charges. Before you know it, you're in deep trouble. In case you really are the culprit, that is."

"Let's say, for example, that I really am the culprit..." My choice of words is a bit risky right there, but I have to ask this. "What will you gain by telling me all these?"

She raise her penciled brows, smiles, and answers without skipping a beat.

"If you want the truth, I'd say that I'm very interested about this case."

Not out of curiosity. Not for the sake of her job alone. But because she's interested. It could even be possible that she's investigating this for fun, for entertainment. Holy shit, this woman is unreal. My impression of her reminds me of someone more than I would care to admit. And it's absolutely terrifying.

She leans on her seat and looks out the window, her face clouding up.

"Say, hypothetically, that you really gave us the tip about the murder attempt. That's nice and all, but suspicious. Why would you want to be anonymous? Was it because you were being threatened not to speak a word about it? Were you involved in the whole plan, backed out, and tipped the police because you were guilty?"

The way she talks and the look on her face unnerve me. She's throwing out theories, all revolving around death threats and impending murder attempts. Not a very pleasant topic to talk about. This woman is interested, that's clear as day. But hell, she seems way too interested. Like a teenage-girl babbling about a chic flick.

"Now, say, again, hypothetically, that you were also the one behind the death threat. The first guess wouldn't align, since if you really backed out, does that mean that you changed your mind and chose to involve yourself again? Unlikely. Perhaps you have another plan that involves threatening Hayama Hayato of his life?

"Do you see where I'm heading off with this? This affair might be being carried out as a group, but if you really are a part of it, that doesn't mean you share equal responsibility. There's a big difference between coming up with an idea and going along with it."

Group murder. It's an interesting theory. I guess I should be relieved she doesn't try to pin the whole thing to me. Like, disregard all the other possibilities and stick to using me as the scapegoat to make her job easier. I'm not sure if we're both in the same side of the coin, though. I mean, she's both right and wrong in all parts. Group murder? Yes. The real murder plan involves two or more people, so it qualifies as one. However, she doesn't know everything about it. Only the hoax I made and the anonymous report I gave her. She's sharp, but not sharp enough to figure out what exactly I was doing.

"But I digress. That's the most rational way of seeing things as they are. However, this case is very peculiar, so I'm considering another possibility..."

She nods, more to herself than me.

"It's that there is a bigger event about to happen, and you're planting seeds to sabotage it."

Preventing my eyes on widening in surprise has taken a quarter of my attention. Merlin, scratch my initial assessment. She's sharp enough to cleanly cut me in half.

"Let's say, hypo— gods, I really should stop using that word. Say that was you, and you were doing this for completely different reasons that doesn't involve murdering anybody. It does seem to me that you were preparing for something else. Like, how you will move a chess piece while thinking ahead of your opponents possible moves." She takes a piece of Oreo from the box and nibbles it, completely indifferent to the things she's spouting out. Then, she raises a finger. "To make it simple: the tip is to alert the police, while the death threat is to add more tension. Hayama Hayato said to us himself that it's possible that his threat was just a decoy. Taking that into consideration, I came up with a theory..."

Ms. Officer's face moves a little too slowly, as if she were taking in the surroundings more than anyone else. Then, she grins. As she does so, the temperature of the car falls a little, and it doesn't have anything to do with the AC. Even in the dim light of the early evening sky, I can clearly see her bared, white teeth. It's a Cheshire grin of sorts, the kind that is so wide it's more as if she wants to eat me whole rather than speak.

"All of this was done in order to heighten the security around Yukinoshita Yukino."

Hikigaya Hachiman was sitting on the leather car-seat. He was white as chalk. His eyes and his mouth were frozen, wide open in an expression of stunned surprise. And although he was staring straight at the police officer's eyes, he appeared not to notice her at all.

Now, you might be wondering why the hell did my point of view suddenly transitioned into that of an omniscient narrator. Simple. That's because I was shocked so hard I found myself suddenly wanting to leave reality, even my own body, and just be a random spectator somewhere. Where I could laugh when a joke is said, cry when a character died, or be queasy when something scary happened. For a moment, I wished to be someone like that. An omniscient narrator. Someone who is always there, but safe from harm.

But life isn't fiction, and it sure is not something you could escape from. You can distract yourself, avert your eyes from the scary things that's going on, but it won't work out the way you expect it to be. Reality has no gateway out. It's a version of hell with no doors, just a boxed-up torture room with nothing but madness.

An unwilling snicker comes out from my mouth. "Interesting theory."

Uncomfortable or just plain ill, it's hard to say. I push the car's door quietly, never giving any chance for another conversation, never meeting her eyes again. As if by a bad toss of coincidence, my eyes meet with hers, unfortunately. In the side-mirror. She's staring at me, her head high and her expression clear. As time ticks by, I am having more difficulty hiding my insincerity.

After heaving a deep breath, I hop out of the car.

After all, being here with her is filling me with an ordinate amount of dread. Pure dread. I can't shake the sensation that I'm going to be shackled and strung up, beaten and mocked, and then without much further ado, executed without mercy. I have have these thoughts so it's actually better if there's something to distract me, but Ms. Officer turns off the car radio and now we just sit in silence. Just sitting in silence. To be honest, I want to run away. My hands are shaking so badly I have to stuff them into my pockets to hide how uneasy I am. I hear my own breathing echoing up in my ears, and I swallow hard.

"Tell you what," she mutters before I can close the door. "The law can be forgiving toward young people who act hastily when they have a lot to lose, especially when they help us uncover the truth. If my theory really was the case, it won't be practical to shoulder all these alone, don't you think?"

I look back at her, my face blank. "I don't have anything to do with it."

"You're a good kid, Hikigaya-san," she shakes her head, and talks in a mixture of a gentle and admonishing tone. "Your record's spotless until now, and you have a nice future ahead of you if you play your cards right. You made one mistake and you got caught. That's scary. I get that. But it's not too late to do the right thing."

I'm not sure which mistake she's referring to: my alleged threatening, my alleged anonymous tipping, or something we haven't talked about yet. But as far as I can tell, I haven't been caught at anything. Just accused.

"I didn't make any mistake, and I sure as hell am not scared."

"Hikigaya-san—"

"Thanks for the ride."

I attempt to bang the door shut at her face, but she blocks it with her hand.

"One last thing. Please understand that the help I can give you right now won't be the same the moment you leave this car."

It chills me, scares me, and unnerves me, to hear the carefully veiled threat underneath her soft-spoken words.

So, I just leave the door open and walk away, after muttering, "I don't need help," in such a faint voice.

 **~※~**

Nothing beats the comfort of your own home. I have always believed in this. In fact, if you're going to ask the Hikigaya Hachiman before all this jeopardy began, he sure is going to insist that he would choose living the life of a hikkikomori instead of going out. Not anymore, though. That version of me died long ago. And now, the last thing I want to do is to be comfortable while someone's life is on danger.

I unlock the door and head inside. A cacophony of talk show voices can be heard in the living room. Komachi's home, as I expected. After shutting the door with as less noise as possible, I take off my shoes and walk on tip-toes towards the kitchen. My throat, unlike the rest of me, is cracked and dry to its fullest, so I pull out a tumbler from the fridge and chug a quarter of its contents in one go.

I rest my hands on the refrigerator's door, hang my head down and heave a sigh.

"You're not even gonna say you're home?"

Then, out of nowhere, Komachi's voice resounds behind me.

I look behind and intone flatly, "I'm home."

Her eyes wander to my drenched uniform to my injured hand, and an expression of pure concern invades her already worried face. However, instead of freaking out like what I expected, she just inhales a deep, shaky breath and weakly smiles at me.

Looking at her like that, I get this inexplicable tightening inside my chest.

She leans on the door-frame. "Something wrong, Onii-chan?"

"Nothing."

My quick dismissal echo in my ears as I said it. _Nothing. Nothing._ It's like my own self is mocking me. _Nothing, eh? Sure_. There's nothing going on. _No big deal. Nothing._

"Whenever you say nothing, it's usually not nothing, bro," she giggles softly, walking towards me. I raise a brow and she shoos me away, pulling the fridge door open and taking out a carton of orange juice. She fills a mug and gulps it, waiting for my reply.

"Could we not talk about it?" I take off my school blazer and throw it towards the laundry basket. It hits the floor instead with a splat. "It's nothing, really."

Komachi picks it up for me, looks at it like it's her dead pet or something, and places it on the empty basket beside her. She then glances at me with a pitying look before looking away. I lean on the table-top with the tumbler in my hand.

"If you're troubled about it but can't find the right words to describe it, it's not nothing, Onii-chan," she says, matter-of-factly.

Very true. For a girl two years younger than me, Komachi is way too clever. No, not to that extent, actually. More perceptive than clever. She can tell what's happening, but not why it's happening. A girl so innocent, but slightly corrupted by my unhealthy presence. Even so, that's what makes her... _her_ , and I want her to stay that way. She has to be protected from all these madness.

Then suddenly, my eyes meet the sight of the phone in her hand. Phone, huh? I don't actually find it very pretty being skeptical with my sister. Hell, we're siblings. We are supposed to know each other more than anyone else. Our whole life we have been living under the same roof, eating the same dinner. Incertitude has never existed between us two. We can tell each other's thoughts just by being with one another.

That's why it unsettles me to find myself reacting to her like I did to the police officer earlier. Skeptical the moment I see a hint of something suspicious. _But, know what? To hell with everything. I don't fucking care anymore. Deep breaths, deep breaths._

I close my eyes for a moment, push the thoughts away, and set the more important parts into motion. Yuigahama has my sister's contact number, and considering her annoying and meddlesome personality, she must have stuck her nose somewhere it shouldn't be again and told Komachi about my display of outrage in the infirmary.

I step forward and stare at Komachi's shrinking form. "So, you know already, huh? Yuigahama told you, didn't she?"

"Yui-san..." Komachi frowns. "She's only worried about you."

Concern is not necessarily a good thing to receive from others. It gives you nothing of use. You're better off not receiving anything like that in the first place.

"Freaking knew it," I shake my head in exasperation. "That girl is like pushing all the goodness of the world onto herself, isn't she? Well of course, I can never make it her fault. Call me a bastard, but I really intend to keep whatever she said to you a secret. It's for you. I don't want you to worry so much. Though as it turn out, you still found out and now, everything's a mess."

Komachi's face is a mixture of concern and uncertainty. "Onii-chan..." She moves closer and hold my arms in place, forcing me to face her fully. "What's going on?"

"Nothing—"

My words are cut off by a resounding echo of a slap.

And a sudden impact on my right cheek.

There's no pain at all, yet it hurts a lot.

It doesn't make any sense at all, does it?

"Nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing! Know what? Yui-san called me just a while ago, asking this, asking that. But what the hell did I know? Nothing! I don't know anything! All I know is that you left home earlier than usual with just cereal for breakfast! Just what can I tell her? I'm just as worried! And here you are coming home wet as hell with a ton of bandages in your hand... then, nothing! It's all nothing, isn't it? You don't really care for me in the first place, do you? All you think is that having me all nuking out is such a hassle so you try to keep me in the dark! That's what's really going on, isn't it? It's not fucking nothing, isn't it?"

Dumbfounded, I try to reach a hand out to her, but she backs away.

"Honestly, when you came right in the door just a moment ago... I didn't recognize you at first," she shakes her head. "You're like a completely different person..."

Every breath feels like my last, every breath makes me ache for it to be the last. My cries of help is not something I would want Komachi to hear. The screams inside my head echo, filling the silence with burning flames of self-loathing. I did this to myself, I was the one dancing with the devil bidding on my heart. What was I even thinking, trying to sabotage the inevitable? Didn't I know it would only kill me, too? That it may also endanger other peole important to me? God. And there's Komachi! I can never forgive myself is she ends up being in danger because of me. Just look at me. What do you see? Nothing, right? Nothing but ashes on the ground, dirt!

The thoughts in my head are swirling so fast, so fucking fast I didn't even realize I'm already talking. My tongue and my brain disconnected with each other. And now, my words race out from my mouth on their own with nothing to stop them.

"Yukinoshita's on mortal peril. In fact, she already died two times. Once with a bullet through her head, the other crushed with a delivery truck. Funny, right? What's even more funny is that I already died three times, too. And all of that was because I was stupid enough to try to save her over and over. But I never learn my lesson, because now I'm being suspected for criminal offenses. What's going on? Simple, sis.

"I'm going mad. Like, literally.'

A hollow, deathly-sounding laugh echoes inside the kitchen. It takes me a moment to realize that was from me. When did I start laughing like that? Right, after my deaths and the helpless people around me. _Funny. Whoo. How funny._ My mind is crumbling, and I feel the surge of mixed emotions that come with it. The despair that gnaws at my chest, the inexplicable need to drop on my knees and scream, even though I'm already fucking tired, even though all I want is to have a good night's sleep and wait for the January twelve to come.

I'm so awful. I'm so fucking awful, and I'm starting to get used to it. I'm starting to get used to every fucking minute of it. Oh, just how deranged is that? Because I'm starting to think that this will never end, and that the progressively manifesting toxins of everything I have been through would evolve into a deadlier poison, and I would never be able to stop it from infesting me.

And oh, it's beginning to happen. I'm sipping on the dregs of this high, the sadistic pleasure of inflicting fear, the absence of guilt whenever I lie, and the satisfaction to see someone cower before me. It's a parasite eating my very soul, leaving me sick and nauseous.

Suddenly, my vision is blurring, and my eyes stings with an itching sensation. Oh, how did I let this happen to me? I'm so out of control, out of head, out of my body— and oh, the pain, oh the mistakes, the failures, the crushed bones, the severed limbs, the rotting bullet wounds, and the guts and the innards sprawled everywhere.

Oh, and her.

All I could see is her, beautiful, perfect and immaculate, and all I ever want is to snag her away from this world and lock her up on a glass case so no one could hurt her.

My legs itch to run down the hall and just do so. It's so tempting. So fucking tempting. Maybe I could kidnap her and hide her somewhere? Who cares about the goddamn killers? Let them come. Let them rip everything. I will fucking kill them myself if I have to. I will be the fucking murderer if I must. I'm so sick of this.

"O-Onii-chan..."

However, the impulse is quelled by a quiet sniff from the young girl in front of me.

Komachi is... crying.

Suddenly, the world steadies itself and I'm back.

As if by instinct, I pull her into a hug, holding her quavering form tightly.

"Look at you. So gullible. That was a joke, of course."

"...you're not joking."

"I was joking."

"You're not... Onii-chan, you're crying..."

Tears stream down my cheeks and I hastily wipe them away.

"Not crying at all."

Komachi is the best, the finest, the one I could rely on no matter what. She's the one who understands what I value the most, the one who would always offer me warm hugs and kind words. She will walk so tall even when I got beat down. There's no one else who ever does it better.

So what in the world was I thinking saying all those things to her? Letting her see me breaking down? Damn it, I'm supposed to protect her from all these!

Oh, maybe I could die again, and I could live a kinder life than this harsh, disgusting, ugly, deteriorating state. I could cast myself off the highest building and all of these would end.

Heh.

Oh, who am I kidding?

In my case, it would just start over again.

How cruel. Even death is not an option.

My hands automatically tighten around Komachi who's still sobbing.

I wish I could stay in this warm embrace forever. Living life in a single moment. Wouldn't that be so beautiful? I want to go on and on and let this happy moment repeat so that there would never be a bad one. But in reality, happy moments always come to an end. And between the happy flickers of happiness are grand hollows of empty spaces where happiness itself gets thrown away to vanish for eternity.

We stand there for a long moment, holding onto each other, then Komachi's phone rings and we break apart. It's vibrating atop the table. Someone is calling.

—It's Yuigahama.

I turn away from Komachi and head to my room.

"Tell her I said she should mind her own fucking business."

* * *

 **In a way, I find writing a character with a slowly deteriorating mental state to be so liberating. There are no rules to stick to, no limitations to worry about, no concerns about going overboard, for the possibilities inside the crumbling psyche of an insane person are endless.**


	13. NOT AN UPDATE

_Hello. I apologize for not updating anything these past few months, and for posting this, instead of updating. Just to be clear, this is NOT a note of apology about me deciding to abandon or leave this story. Contrariwise, it's a reminder that I have no intention of doing so. Same goes with my other stories._

 _Please understand that I can be busy too, even with writing fan fiction excluded. Give me some time and I'll make sure to see you fellas again._

 _—Cheekygaya_


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